


Garbage

by compo67



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Abuse, Age Difference, Alpha Jensen, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Dark, Anal Plug, Angst, Big Bang Challenge, Blood, Bottom Jared, Detective Jensen, Domestic Violence, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, Graphic Description, High School, Hospitals, Knotting, Literary References & Allusions, M/M, Older Jensen, Omega Jared, Parent/Child Incest, Physical Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Violence, Top Jensen Ackles, Torture, Violence, Young Jared Padalecki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 08:20:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 21
Words: 26,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1811662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/compo67/pseuds/compo67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared is a shy, reclusive fourteen year old omega who lives day to day, surviving the best he can. With the encouragement of his school librarian, he reads extra books for fun, preferring to live within the stories he reads instead of his actual living situation. His current book is Mary Renault’s WWII, gay classic, The Charioteer. He is captivated by the relationship between the three central characters—Laurie, Andrew, and Ralph—and the novel becomes integral to his survival. A few weeks before the annual dance, Alpha Detective Jensen Ackles, from the Department of Omega Care, visits the high school and notices Jared by the way he holds his backpack. This seemingly casual observation launches an investigation that irrevocably changes everyone involved—for better and for worse. [Supernatural J2 Big Bang 2014 Entry; art by Tebtosca.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here be fiction! Please remember to read all the tags—this is dark fic! 
> 
> All my love to my beta, Melacreature, for putting up with me at obscene hours and dealing with all of my ridiculous ideas. Additional thanks to McDanno for providing wonderful feedback, and to Dark3DBabe for their prompt on the SPN Kink Meme that inspired this fic. A million and one thanks to my artist, Tebtosca, who has been absolutely wonderful in working with me and producing the gorgeous art that you see for this fic. It has been my pleasure working with all of you! 
> 
> And thank you to Mary Renault, who wrote The Charioteer and has inspired so much of my fic. Oh, and thank you to all my readers—old and new! Y’all are the best. (Make sure you read the warnings! I can’t remind you enough!)
> 
> This is my FIRST big bang! Woo! I'm putting up the links shortly. :D
> 
> LINK TO THE ART (THE BEAUTIFUL, BEAUTIFUL ART: SFW) tebtosca.livejournal.com/146263.html

 

In school they are studying body language.

Their teacher is an older female omega who has been schooling high school freshmen since the dawn of time. She is gray and bent, with a raspy, sandpaper voice, but she continues to command classes of omegas every year without fail.

Today’s assignment was to bring in a photograph of themselves with their families. The purpose of this, she crows at the start of class, is to demonstrate how body language changes when an individual is surrounded by people they are familiar with. It’s a simple assignment; she sternly emphasizes to her class of twenty that there is absolutely no reason for anyone to fail this. With a push off of her desk at the front of the room and a heave of breath, she begins walking up and down the aisles of the classroom. At every other desk she pauses to mention how handsome a certain family is, or to comment on how lovely the home is behind the family in the picture. It is her responsibility to mold young omegas into model citizens and suitable partners for their future alphas. This is, she comments, a good assignment to indicate what sort of omegas they come from and what sort of omegas they will be. Taking her time, her footsteps are heavy on the hardwood floor. Eventually, she makes her way to the back corner of the room, to the very last desk.

“Jared,” she snaps at the only omega without a photograph on their desk. “This was the most basic homework assignment of the entire semester and you’ve failed it. Why am I not surprised?” Her large chest rises beneath her usual violet, floral print dress. She makes her vexation known to the rest of the class and huffs, pointing towards the door. The extra skin on her arms flaps as she emphasizes for Jared to move faster. “Go on. Go stand in the hallway until I figure out what to do with you.”

Gathering up his backpack and sweater, Jared hurries, trying his best to ignore the giggles of his classmates. Someone sticks their foot out to trip him but he dodges it. His reflexes are good. Well, they’re adequate. Two seconds later, he isn’t so lucky at dodging the shove given to him from behind. Tumbling out into the hallway with a wince, the door is promptly slammed behind him. One last growl is given from Ms. Lily—he’s going to get it later. It’s a shame, Jared thinks, rubbing his back. He had been looking forward to today’s lesson.

The hallway is a familiar place. He’s used to it out here. In fact, sometimes he prefers it, especially when they have to do group projects or go on field trips. Last month’s field trip to the art museum in the center of the city cost five dollars per omega and required a signed permission slip. There are many things that Jared doesn’t fully understand at the age of fourteen—he is aware of his youthful ignorance—but he did know that it was either five dollars for the trip or five dollars for food. When he didn’t bring in his money or a slip, Ms. Lily got upset and exiled him out into the hallway for his assumed forgetfulness. On the day of the field trip, he sat in an assigned study hall.

But that worked out just fine for Jared. He was able to finish reading _A Raisin in the Sun_. The extra alone time to read without worry was well worth staying behind.

Presently, one of the hall monitors passes by and nods to Jared, who nods politely in return. All of the hall monitors know about Ms. Lily’s tendency to toss him out. She has her moods, the monitors are fond of saying, and her favorites. It’s a pity that Jared isn’t one of her favorites; every time they see him he’s got his nose stuck in a book. As long as Jared doesn’t cause trouble he’s free to read a book while he serves out his sentence and they won’t tell. He is supposed to be standing with his back straight against the wall thinking long and hard about what he’s done to deserve his punishment. At the first chance he gets, he opens his backpack and fishes out a well-loved trade paperback.

This month’s book is _The Charioteer_. The librarian ran out of young adult books to suit his reading level, so he has gradually been given more advanced titles. Two months ago it was _The Mambo Kings Play Songs of Love_. Jared read that with a Spanish dictionary nearby at all times. Even if the translations he cobbled together weren’t completely accurate he still loved it. All the Greek imagery mixed in with Cuban boleros—plus the description of vivid New York City nightlife—lifted him up and away from whatever else was going on around him. He also learned new words, ones that roll around in his head when he needs blank space to separate himself: resurrection, nourishment, harmonizing.

The month before that, it was _A Raisin in the Sun_ , which he’s told the juniors read every year in the fall. There’s a very old movie of it, but Jared prefers to read. On a small screen, Mr. Kelly showed him a few clips; oddly enough, the one scene that he remembers is Ruth adding milk to the eggs. He had never seen such a thing done before. The tip was utilized the next time he made eggs and the batch stretched out for two entire meals. Mr. Kelly always picks good selections for Jared, though these recent ones have come with a warning about adult content and situations. That is polite adult code for sex and swearing.

So far, very little adult content has been addressed in this new novel. The setup is a little thick, but Jared is patient. His patience pays off. If he immerses himself long enough in this text he can hear the main character’s voice, accent and all. The author is British. Her words and sentence structure get a little dense from time to time but Jared doesn’t mind. He simply pauses to repeat difficult lines to himself before proceeding. It’s far more advanced than anything he’s read in class or what has been given to him by Mr. Kelly yet, but it’s also the most enjoyable. Something about Laurie clicks with him. Set in World War II, Jared looks up the references to battles and locations in Mr. Kelly’s history book. In addition to all the new places and history to learn, there are plenty of new words: incontrovertible, incongruous, pleasantries.

He is just about halfway through now, and he smiles to the pages as he reads through a scene. Laurie’s parents split up while he was young. In boarding school—a place Mr. Kelly explained was like their schools now, except instead of omega/alpha separations, they were separated by boys and girls—Laurie met Ralph. An older student, Ralph was abruptly expelled from school, and they never got to pick up after their brief flirtation with each other. Both joined the war in service. Ralph lost a hand; Laurie’s leg was severely injured. Amidst bombings and rations, Laurie recovers in a military hospital. He is caught between the affections of Ralph, who he has recently found, and Andrew, a young, naïve Quaker nurse.

The scene unfolds before Jared. The two men have retired for an evening at Ralph’s apartment, catching up, assessing each other’s place in the world.  Jared reminds himself that a flat is an apartment. Ralph’s is small, dark, and filled with furniture too big for the space. Misjudging the distance between himself and a chair, Laurie knocks his knee, causing him pain. Commanding and assertive, Ralph lifts Laurie up and moves him from a lounge to a bed. Although he’s older, Ralph has retained his strength, something Laurie points out, admires. Quickly, Jared finds himself rooting for Ralph, especially now as he takes care to look after Laurie. Ralph tends to Laurie’s knee. He says, _“Every ship I’ve been in for years that hasn’t carried a doctor, I’ve always done this job. I won’t hurt you.”_

Reading through lines as fast as he can manage without losing anything, Jared smiles into the book, completely unaware of the empty hallway he is actually in. This is a turning point, Jared can already tell. Laurie agrees to the care that Ralph offers and a weight he hadn’t known he was carrying is lifted. Jared remembers this page and one line in particular: _Suddenly, he felt free of it all._

As soon as Laurie trusts Ralph, Jared does too. The next page is filled with banter and subtle flirting, the kind Jared dreams of. He constructs conversations in his head with his future alpha, someone who will reply just as Ralph does. The lunch bell interrupts Ralph gradually winning over Laurie’s heart. The last line he reads is a mention of how Ralph functions, missing one hand. Jared doesn’t think that makes him any less handsome or appealing. So what if Andrew is younger and possesses a sense of childlike innocence? How does that make him so special?

Innocence is hardly a reason to deem someone worthy as a partner, right?

Laurie and the rest are shoved into his backpack as the hallway fills with students in a rush to get where they’re going. More than once Jared is shoved. He keeps his shoulders tense and attempts to push past the surge to get back into the classroom. Once he manages, he sees that Ms. Lily is speaking to another student; Jared waits by the doorway, looking at the floor, trying not to intrude.

He does have a photograph, just one. He left it in his locker because it’s too important to be taken out. It’s not a glossy print and it isn’t even in color. It was developed in a dark room by hand, ten years ago. The corners are tattered and curling. There was a frame for it once but, predictably, it broke. At the start of the school year six months ago, Jared hung up his picture with a few filmy pieces of scotch tape, securing it on the door of his locker. There are times when he’s tempted to carry it with him but he always resists. Rain could damage it. Hands could tear it apart. Therefore, it’s best not to take the chance and leave it where it rests.

Bound forever in photographic stillness, three people stand outside a cottage. Jared can see himself standing in the middle, his parents pillars beside him. That’s all he cares to describe about it. What matters is that he chose not to bring it in for class and now he will face the consequences.

“Jared!”

Ms. Lily bangs her fist on her desk. She snaps at Jared to wake up. Startled, Jared rushes forward from his place, stumbling over himself. This is his lunch hour and he should be in the cafeteria with all the other freshmen omegas. Freshmen take their lunches the earliest, which makes the day feel longer but it is what it is. They must stay on campus until their senior year when they are allowed to go home to start making dinner and return afterwards. Jared already has the slow cooker on at home. Tonight is chicken cacciatore night. Ms. Lily’s shouting centers all of his wayward thoughts. He receives the usual lecture about the evils of day dreaming and how his inattentiveness will never, ever earn him the respect of an alpha.

His lecture lasts until his lunch period is halfway over. He can make up the assignment by writing a two page essay on obedience and an omega’s duty to honor their elders. “Hand it in tomorrow,” she huffs and points to the door. “Out.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jared says softly and retreats back into the hallway, shutting the door behind him.

Looking around at the once again empty section of school, Jared sighs.

A hall monitor passes by and nods.

 

Mr. Kelly warned Jared that _The Charioteer_ was written a long time ago, before there were omegas and alphas. Back then, if a boy wanted to sleep with another boy it was considered distasteful. _Homosexuals_ , is what they were called, Jared has learned from both the novel and the history book. In 1953 they had very few ways of communicating amongst each other, often using slang, but underground communities were nonetheless formed and held together.

He spends the little time left of his lunch hour reading in the hallway, curled up in the art wing. Jared is reading through the part where a friend of Ralph’s—an unstable personality if there ever was one—tries to commit suicide during a party. Despite the scandal going on, Jared’s mind flits back and forth to his picture. In the picture, his body language was then as it is now: shy and unobtrusive. What could be learned from that? He hadn’t dared argue with Ms. Lily, but he would have liked to point out that the assignment could have been done with a picture from a magazine. Such insolence would not have been tolerated and although he likes the hallway, he also likes what they learn in class.

If he’s going to be a proper omega, he needs to not only go to school, but be in the actual classroom.

Jared sighs, flipping a page. He forces himself to concentrate, wills his mind to separate itself from his body like water and oil.

_There was no doubt that Sandy looked a disgusting spectacle, with his pale damp face, his head lolling on the bath mat, his watery eyes upturned._

What should the reader think about Sandy? Shouldn’t they side with Laurie? Should they feel bad for Alec for being saddled with Sandy or should they feel more compassion? He works through these questions, trying to piece together what this scene means for the rest of the novel. He can already hear what Mr. Kelly is fond of saying to him during their discussions: “You’re the one reading it, Jared. You can form your own opinions about anyone and everyone. What do _you_ think?”

Something completely derails Jared’s speculations about Sandy. He picks it up, surprised that he hasn’t focused on it sooner. Even in chaos, Ralph remains steady, calling Laurie by a nickname: Spud.

Jared’s never had a nickname that meant something special or affectionate before. The way Ralph calls him Spud like it’s natural and familiar is all the more reason to root for the older alpha. A mate should call their partner pet names and take care of them, even when they are unnecessarily hard on other people.

Alphas and omegas should love each other, even if they are flawed.

The bell rings again. Jared mends that thought.

He hopes an alpha can love him, even if he is flawed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the tags! Remember: dark AU!

Omegas and alphas are separated in high school. An omega technically reaches maturity first, usually at the age of sixteen. Alphas take a little longer, getting their first knot and heat at an average age of eighteen. There used to be schools where omegas and alphas attended together, but only a handful of those models exist in the country now. It was a matter of disciplinary issues; teachers would find omegas and alphas fooling around in between classes and on school grounds. According to Ms. Lily, omegas learn better surrounded by other omegas.  

As the student body is separated, so are the teachers. Only omegas teach omegas and only alphas teach alphas. Mr. Kelly is technically not a teacher, though he does facilitate the Chess Club in addition to his duties in the library. All teachers have their own offices, but staff like Mr. Kelly often shares spaces. Mr. Kelly’s officemate recently left for their maternity leave, so he has the entire cubicle to himself.

Today, as they sit down, a hot plate has been brought out, with tea set to boil with water from the fountain. There are three librarians in this school, which is a large number considering the fact that most omegas don’t advance beyond a 10th grade reading level. Still, reading is taught to them and the virtue of it highly regarded, not for their own sake but for their children’s. Future citizens will need strong educations, especially alphas, and their omega parents must see to that. Reading has never been an issue for Jared.

“Tea?”

“Yes please,” Jared murmurs. A china cup and saucer are passed over to him.

“Milk?”

“Please.”

Pushing up his glasses, Mr. Kelly stirs his own tea before pouring a healthy amount of milk into Jared’s cup. “Why do you think Laurie doesn’t like Sandy, Jared?”

Madeline cookies are placed on a small plate no bigger than Jared’s hand and offered to him. The plate is dainty; it is made specifically for tea time. Jared finds this amusing. He takes a cookie and nibbles at it slowly, careful not to get crumbs anywhere. “I… for many reasons.”

“And they are?”

“Ah… uhm… one… I feel like Laurie sees himself in Sandy and hates Sandy for that. He could… could have been Sandy and it’s painful to watch.” The cookies are fresh and have a hint of extra sweetness to it. “Two… I… well, Laurie comes from a military background now and… and it’s possible… that he thinks of mental instability as a weakness in character.”

“I’d say it’s more than a possibility,” Mr. Kelly adds and finishes his cookie. “Anything else?”

Encouraged to answer with another offered cookie, Jared adds, “Sandy identifies as… a homosexual… in a very obvious, obvious way. The definition… I… it bothers Laurie. He doesn’t strictly identify that way. But everyone Ralph knows does and… well, Laurie is still really new to that.”

If an omega is given the right to speak by an omega elder or an alpha, opinions may be given. This is something Jared is still learning. He can raise his hand in class just fine, when he decides to answer a question, but one-on-one conversation remains an effort. He doesn’t know when it’s okay to speak and when it’s not unless he is given firm, clear instructions. Mr. Kelly coaxes answers out of him with tea and sweets when he has the time. It’s no secret that Jared’s best subject is English. He forms better sentences on paper than out loud.

The staff room is quiet today. Ten cubicles are housed here, but Mr. Kelly’s is by far the most inviting. He places the tea kettle on a stand, removing it from the hot plate; underneath it is a tea light candle to keep the water warm. Content with Jared’s answers, a smile is given to Jared and they proceed to discuss a different section.

By the end of their meeting, Mr. Kelly proclaims that Jared has done a good analysis of the text.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the tags!

Most omegas walk home in pairs for safety.

Jared has always walked alone.

Today, he takes his time. Their neighborhood looks grayer in colder months but he knows it’ll turn into something pretty during spring. He has faith in the trees and their ability to endure winter after winter. Every year they come back with new leaves and buds. As he walks, Jared takes up very little of the sidewalk. The sound of his jeans scuffing on the asphalt combines with the soft tune he hums. His arms swing beside him and he feels light.

One mile away from school, the street is lined with large homes that have wide, green front lawns. Jared says hello to the garden gnome that belongs to 436 Cedar Street and waves to the pair of plastic turtles that sit in the flower bed of 982 Maple Street. Little by little, the neighborhood homes become a gradient of class and rank. Alphas with high-paying careers own grand homes. The size of their property depends on the rate of their success and status in society. The school that Jared goes to is surrounded by many large homes. A good deal of his classmates come from families with respected and wealthy alphas. It is a very good omega school; some of their alumni are famous omegas who have contributed to their alphas’ success. Jared always feels pride for his school, even if a majority of his time there is spent in its hallways. They are very clean and well-lit hallways.

He was granted admission based on a scholarship, with conditions he must maintain every semester. As he walks on, reaching the two mile mark, the homes have decreased in size significantly. Homes are no longer separated by iron, but by ordinary steel, chain linked fences. Very few of these homes have gardens in the front, so Jared taps certain mailboxes that amuse him in their color or shape. He taps the little barnyard mailbox at 524 Crest Drive and gives a somber nod to the black, plain mailbox at 222 Cherry Lane. His scholarship looks at all of his subjects, including physical fitness, and is reviewed by a board of esteemed omega alumni every semester. So far this year he has excelled at Home Arts and English, with good marks in Math, and fair scores in Science and Alpha Care. Ms. Lily is his teacher for every subject this year. Next year, as a sophomore, he will receive a new teacher and some new classmates—that is six months away.

Another half mile and the scenery changes completely. Jared keeps his hands at his sides and walks faster, with his head down, past an open lot. He reaches a wooden fence. Using a graffiti symbol as a place marker, he counts one, two, three, four boards and pushes in the fifth. He crawls through to the other side, scraping his palms a little, but he dusts himself off quickly and resumes walking.

Omegas cannot own homes. They go directly from their families to their alpha. Every household has one alpha and at least one omega. An alpha can marry more than one omega if he wishes, but most alphas agree on a maximum of three. Alphas are responsible for the well-being of their omegas, which includes feeding them, providing them with adequate shelter, and maintaining their physical health. Jared picks up his pace. There are no multi-story homes here. He keeps a garden but it never yields more than basil. Last summer he tried persuading it to grow tomatoes, but the only vine that grew looked sad. He left the rest of his seedlings on the steps of a fancy home on Cedar with the hope that the omega that lived there would make use of them better than he had.

The properties in this section of town are run down. Jared can’t accurately describe the complex—well-loved, well-used, fixer-uppers…? A few months ago they were given an assignment to write down the proper way to use an electric oven. He had to go to a classmate’s house to complete the task, since the only one he has access to is gas. When his classmate turned it on for him, it awed him that something could be hot but not look hot. Since that visit, Jared started to look at where he lives differently. Trash is picked up every Tuesday. Today is Monday, the worst day for cleanliness. The dumpster stalls are overflowing; some residents have given up and lined garbage bags and sagging boxes outside them. Jared walks in a wide loop around the stall that’s on the way home. When the wind picks up it’s disgusting, and of course, the smell is even worse in the summer.

There are apartment complexes about three blocks down that are very nice. Jared has dreamed of moving into one of those buildings. Maybe it’s his omega nature, but his favorite daydreams involve boxing up his books and moving into a studio. He would keep it clean and airy, and he would have a stack of books relegated to one corner—it would be the reading corner.

What he lives in currently is what he’s lived in nearly all his life. He doesn’t remember the cottage from his picture. That must have been a nice place to live. Still, he feels gratitude for the hut because he knows things can always be much worse; there are some omegas in the world without any place to call home.

Each hut is spaced out on a grid. There are twenty feet between each hut and small patches of grass and soil behind. The property owners boast these patches as backyards. Jared outgrew their backyard when he was eight. However, he has to give the grass here credit. It is as stubborn as anything. He waters it in the summer to prevent it from turning copper, but the grass does most of the work year after year.

Jared has tried his best to keep their hut looking its best. There is a leak in the roof he can’t figure out how to fix, but that’s not a terrible thing. He placed a house plant under the leak and it has so far benefited from every rain. The white paint on the wooden walls is peeling and they haven’t had electricity in a few days. Yesterday, Jared walked to the other side of the property, closer to the apartments, and left a note for the maintenance staff. Nothing has ever been fixed within a month but Jared hopes, as he checks their mail, that choose this opportunity to prove him wrong.

A kick and a shove with his shoulder opens the front door. He used to push toy cars under the door because they fit nicely in the gap underneath. This cold season, he’s taken a tip from his Home Arts class and has a towel placed in there to keep out a draft. After he’s inside, he carefully stuffs the towel back in and sets his backpack down near the door.

There are technically two rooms in their hut, plus a kitchenette. The entire hut is constructed out of particle board and pieces of thin wood. In the kitchenette, the stove and oven are across from the fridge, the sink, and the cupboards. Even though the oven door opens halfway before it bumps into the door of the fridge, Jared has always made do. He sniffles and wipes at his nose with the sleeve of his sweater as he places the mail on the countertop next to the sink. Huts do not have their own bathrooms. There are community bathrooms every ten huts or so for their use. Jared wakes up extra early to take showers every other day. Most of the time, he can get away with putting his head under the faucet and scrubbing his face.

Two rooms are listed for every hut as an incentive to move in. However, it really is just one room, with a hard plastic screen shoved in the middle to create a divider. Immediately after he checks on the slow cooker, Jared goes to his side of the divider, which is the smallest one, but it has its advantage: he has the only window in their hut.

Since there is no electricity, nothing is in their fridge, except for a small box of baking soda. He bought the chicken for tonight at the convenience store five blocks down before school this morning and snuck back in to prepare it. Chicken cacciatore is fairly easy to make. He recites the recipe to himself as he sits down on his pallet. Two chicken breasts cleaned and skinned, one can of tomato sauce, salt and pepper to taste, and a splash of red wine. He’ll make spaghetti for it later. For now, Jared kicks empty cans and clothes away from him to make some space. From his space he can reach over to the front door and grab his backpack. Who else in his class can say that?

Jared settles in to do his homework. First up is his essay on obedience.

An omega must be obedient to their alpha, who gives so much and simply asks for respect in return. An alpha takes care of their omega when they are in heat and knots them for their own sake. Omegas can be chosen for alphas at any time, preferably after their first heat. Alphas and omegas are made for each other. No matter what age the omega is, they owe their alphas respect. It’s as simple as that.

Did homosexuals think about their partners that way? That finding each other despite so many barriers meant they were destined to be together? After all, finding someone else who felt the same way was not easy, as Jared has gathered from Ralph’s friends and circle of acquaintances. One could never know if the party of interest reciprocated the same feelings or merely displayed ones similar to romance. This is not true now, as Jared knows it. Alphas are easy to spot by their manner of walk, and easy to hear from the authority in their voices. Some omegas can command a room better than others, but they will never speak as loudly or with as much influence as an alpha.

Halfway through his essay, Jared’s stomach rumbles. He shushes his middle and takes a drink of water from a canteen. The water here comes from a pump that’s suitable to wash in but not to ingest. When he can, he boils the water, but he doesn’t feel like going through the trouble if he’s going to make spaghetti later. His system is used to it by now. His hunger is an inconvenience; the tea and cookies Mr. Kelly kindly shared should have been enough.

The essay is finished with a final word on how without obedience, an omega could never truly appreciate an alpha’s presence in their lives. It’s not his best work, but it will placate Ms. Lily.

Moving on, Jared pulls out the rest of his homework for the evening. Math homework is a sheet of basic addition and subtraction, mainly so he can learn how to properly adjust recipes for a growing household. Omegas are expected to tutor their young until they enter elementary school at the age of six, and they provide help throughout their children’s education.

A difficult question about thirds in a cake recipe stumps him. After fiddling with it, he sets aside his work for the moment and picks up his book. Returning to Laurie and Ralph is much more soothing at this point. Mr. Kelly will have some time to spend with him tomorrow afternoon to discuss the next few chapters, if Jared can manage to read them. Outside is overcast in true cold season fashion, but Jared can still see the words on the pages. He will use the last few hours of light efficiently. Half an hour of reading and homework will be wonderful before he finishes the last of dinner. Thankfully, the slow cooker is battery operated.

Finding a good position to lay in, Jared continues reading. This is a good part; it’s less dense, with more conversation and interaction between Ralph and Laurie. He reads it out loud, keeping his voice down. A British accent is attempted, despite how silly he sounds. _“Ralph, if you’d gone up to Cambridge and everything, what were you going to have done?”_ Mr. Kelly explained that Cambridge used to be—many years ago—a prestigious university only a select few could attend. It is now only an alpha university, but still as noteworthy, and certainly historic. Jared reads Ralph’s response in a deeper voice. _“Some sort of geographical survey work, I rather thought. There are quite a few odd corners still left to do.”_

The way the sentence structure varies from other books he’s read amuses him. Every little British expression or phrase makes him smile. From this passage, Jared reads the narrative, which has always been from Laurie’s perspective. _By now, Ralph would have fulfilled his destiny. He wouldn’t have struggled for it; it would have come to him inevitably from a course of knowing first what needed doing, and doing it rather sooner and more thoroughly than anyone else_. Jared smiles and holds onto the book tighter. Laurie’s concern over Ralph’s would-have-been fate is sweet. Moreover, Laurie understands that Ralph has had to earn everything with difficulty. If he had remained at the boarding school they attended as teenagers then life would have been very different. The same can be said for a great number of young men during that time. Jared wonders what it’s like to go to war outside of the house—to fight a complete stranger.

Lost in rich language and the appearance of a new character, Bunny, Jared doesn’t hear the steps near the hut. He flinches and drops his book when the front door is shoved open. The total size of their hut is 10x12. Jared knows every inch of it. He has cleaned it all. And despite his habitual cleaning, it never stays that way for very long.

Early. Dad is home early.

This can mean two things: he never went to work, or he did and cut off halfway into his shift. Jared scrambles to shove the book into his backpack. The smell of alcohol hits him as hard as the hand on his face a moment later. Dad didn’t go to work. Empties plummet from a plastic bag he’s been carrying since he left the bar. Each glass bottle gets a nickel refund at the recycling plant. It is Jared’s weekly chore to collect the empties, walk the four miles to the plant, and receive enough money to buy a package of bread. As much as dad can live on beer and whiskey, there must always be a loaf of bread in the hut. Always.

The world shifts from three homosexuals meeting in a small apartment to have tea—to Jared being roughed up and pinned down. Dad has a face, Jared knows he does, but he can’t see it. He wouldn’t know how to describe it to anyone. Wordless orders are stomped into him. On his stomach. _Now_.

An omega self-lubricates. In the books he has read, it doesn’t appear that people used to do that. Jared can’t do it now because there’s no time, no time at all. The wind is knocked out of him and he bites down onto his hand in an effort to stay silent. Heavy, labored breathing thunders behind him, eventually grazing the back of his neck. The large, bloated cock that pushes into him hurts; it burns and forces him open. Jared chokes on his own spit.

He looks like his mother. That’s the problem.

Over and over again, dad grunts her name. Jared can’t repeat it. Not even in his thoughts. Not even as it’s bruised into his back as his legs are spread and he feels a knot forming.

This is survival.

Omegas carry children regardless of their genitalia. The homosexuals in this story declared themselves nature’s answer to overpopulation. What must it have been like, having sex and not fearing pregnancy? A fat fist slams down on the small of Jared’s back. His jeans and briefs have been pushed down. Finally, some slick is pushed out and it eases each thrust. Even with this small mercy, Jared still finds himself gasping for air, his eyes rolling back and his mouth sagging open.

Biology has been good to him so far. He hasn’t had his first heat yet, therefore, he has never risked becoming heavy with a child produced from… this. This will happen two more times tonight; Jared can tell by the eagerness of which he is mounted and pumped into. The bulging knot begins to throb and seek entrance. Jared cries out when a spurt of slick helps it in with a squelch. His noise costs him. He can’t ruin the illusion. It’s dangerous to disrupt what’s going on in another world, aided by liquor and memories.

Taken by the hair, a hand pulls and twists and threatens to remove a chunk if Jared doesn’t shut up. Jared wheezes, his face scrunching in pain and his hands move instinctively towards the pain in his scalp.

Focus. Dinner will be done soon. There’s bread in the cupboard. Extra empties this week means a slightly larger loaf for next week. Bread soothes dad’s indigestion and heart burn. Focus.

It’s been the two of them in this hut since Jared can remember. He often went to school dirty and hungry, until he learned how to feed and clothe himself by the age of eight. Jared feels his head being pushed into the cheap floorboards. His eyes water from the knot pulsating and filling him up. The first time he knew a knot was just before his tenth birthday. It made him bleed.

Disassociated, he knows that his fingernails are digging into the maroon blanket underneath him. If it was just the knot, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe. But it’s more than that.  

“Ah ah,” Jared chokes, his eyes fluttering while his fingers twitch.

Every punch lands well within the boundaries of clothing. Jared is never struck in places where people might see. Although he is frequently slapped or spit on, those things fade. Physical fitness doesn’t require changing into a uniform; Jared can run that hour without worry.

It’s the belt that he fears the most. He heard it just a minute ago but it was put away. However, now that he has made a noise, he braces himself, and rightly so. The first slap of leather against his skin is beastly. It strikes him over his shoulder blades, followed by a place near his neck. All attempts at silence fail.

Jared sobs in misery. His upper body struggles and convulses while his treacherous hips hump at the knot buried inside him. It’s instinct to do these things—to ride the knot, to fight back against a beating. If only he had more control. If only he could have kept quiet. If only he could have focused.

The plastic divider shakes as Jared is wrung out.

One loud, deep grunt signals that dad is coming. Jared closes his eyes and feels his hair plastered to his forehead from sweating. He takes sharp, small inhales of breath that match the ferocity of his heartbeat.

A healthy knot can produce up to two cups of come. That’s normal. An omega is made to hold every drop of it. Sometimes, Jared’s lower abdomen swells up with it all. But that hasn’t happened in a few months; alcohol is killing his dad. Half a cup of come is expelled and the knot seals it in until deflating five minutes later.

In that time, Jared’s nipples are fondled, reached under to touch by fingers that used to read him stories at night. Nothing. Jared doesn’t feel anything in response.

No kiss. No thank you. Just a pull and a slap to the ass and a grunt that dinner better be done.

An empty bottle is chucked at Jared’s head.

Get up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the tags!!

Something must have happened.

Tonight, three times turns into five, which turns into six. At one point, somewhere in the middle of the third, Jared starts screaming and sobbing and begging please, please not again.

Punishment is a large, uncomfortable plug inserted as Jared clings to the kitchen sink, retching and heaving dinner into it. His hole is sore and inflamed; slick stopped being produced hours ago. As the night wears on, not a moment of sleep is had. Daylight hurts his eyes. A rancid taste doesn’t wash out of his mouth; he spits blood into the sink. He doesn’t even have enough time to change out of his clothes or wipe the vomit from his chin. Dazed and disoriented, Jared is shoved out of the hut. The door is slammed behind him. Dad will stay home today.

Jared isn’t proud of it, but he crawls away from their hut mewling and trembling. His jeans aren’t all the way on and his backpack is still inside.

Two omegas in the huts nearest to them peek at him and turn away.

Everyone has moments when the huts are too close together and the walls are too thin for comfort or privacy. The omega three huts away gave birth there last week without her alpha home. Someone from the lane down a ways gets beaten by their alpha every other Monday—like clockwork. More than one omega can be seen limping from the community bathrooms with bruises on their faces. The one time Jared turned up at school with a mark on his face, he told Ms. Lily he had been reaching for the slow cooker on top of the fridge and it fell on him. What else has he heard or said himself?

After a few minutes, Jared manages to turn himself over, onto his back. His eyes are sticky with sweat, come, and tears. He needs a shower before he can go anywhere. Somehow, he must also sneak in through the window to grab his backpack. Hopefully dad will be asleep by then. Internally cheering himself as he rolls onto his left side, Jared thinks he’s making progress. Taking a deep breath that is meant to calm him is a mistake—he wheezes and vomits onto the patches of stone that serve as sidewalks between each hut. Coughing and spitting up results in a deep ache that starts in his ribs and radiates all the way to his nose.

Another attempt at getting up is met with frustrated tears. This isn’t the worst. Remember the worst? It was summertime, last year, and some of the maintenance staff found him in a dumpster stall. They mistook him for a corpse. The coroner came out with a black body bag and everything, ready to unzip it until an assistant noticed that Jared blinked.

Now is not the time to think about that.

School will provide him with a warm place, electricity, and a meal. If he hurts enough he can go to the infirmary and get some low grade Aspirin. Maybe he can bandage up his chest; it feels like a rib has been bruised or fractured. It’s definitely not broken. He would know.

Lugging the weight of his body, Jared crawls to the nearest community bathroom. It is blissfully empty. For a minute he lays with his head near the drain, lapping up whatever water is there, trying to steady his breathing. The cement floor is cool against his cheek. Good. He got here. First step is done. It won’t be harder than this. The next step involves sitting up and pulling on the water cord. Someone left a bucket in here. He grabs a hold of it and pulls himself up, grunting and moaning in pain. The plug causes his hips to move stiffly in order to accommodate it inside him.  

As he pulls down on the cord, he is grateful that nothing is broken or sprained. It wasn’t that bad. It isn’t that bad. Summer is bad. He sneezes. Under the spray of lukewarm water, he shivers. His clothes stick to him the wetter he gets but that’s fine. He has four shirts and two pairs of jeans in total—he can find something relatively clean and change into that after this. With his right hand on the cord, he uses his left to wipe everything off his face. He leans against the bucket and feels the knots in his hair loosen from the water. Good. Second step is done. Third step is to stand up no matter what agony he feels. He can’t crawl up to the window and he certainly can’t crawl to school.

Cramping in his lower abdomen starts as he pulls himself up, using the shower stall wall as leverage. Huffing, Jared licks his lips. Easy now. Don’t fall.

The first time this happened to him he fell asleep wishing that someone would find him and take him away from all of it. He made up a new home in his mind and inside it, his mother waited with dinner just for him. In this home there were no dark, glass bottles, no cigarette butts scattered everywhere, and no piles of garbage he was screamed at to stay away from. Jared didn’t grow up being given dolls or toys--he found those toy cars near the recycling plant. He lived curling up next to black garbage bags and setting up empties like bowling pins. Those were his activities. They were as good as any since dad never allowed him—after the first knot—to see or play with children his age again. Enrolling in school was inevitable, because even though most omegas dropped out before their senior year, it was still required.

Full of pride, Jared does not wish for that a new home. Instead, he looks forward to meeting with Mr. Kelly after school and asking him why Laurie feels jealousy towards Bunny. Ralph may have a history with Bunny, but he is clearly interested in Laurie—interested enough to call him Spud.

Wobbly on his feet, Jared successfully stumbles over to their hut and snakes himself in through the window. Quickly, now. Quiet. He grabs his backpack and a change of clothes. Outside again, he strips, not caring who sees him, and begins to feel better as soon as he has a clean shirt on.

He takes the short way to school since he is already quite late. The bluegrass grove is cut through, along with some private yards. Only a few times does he fall or vomit.

Finally, three hours late, he stands at the gate surrounding the school.

Okay.

Now, go inside, learn, and try to enjoy the peace.

In view of the brick entrance, hidden by a thicket, Jared passes out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the tags!

A few dreams disturb Jared more than they should.

They grow in intensity as he ages. Many omegas attribute their nightmares to changes in their hormones. Once an omega starts having heats, they have one every year until they pass away. Alphas go into heat as well, but they run on a five year cycle. They can knot without a heat, but do not have a heat without a knot. Knot, knot, knot. Jared shudders. The knot in this dream makes his mouth water. He wants it. He craves it. He wants to reach out and touch its bloated figure and suckle on the leaking head. Oh, no that’s all _wrong_.

An alpha can only breed an omega under certain conditions: the omega has to have started their heats, and currently be in heat. Plus, an alpha must themselves be in heat. If all of those things line up, then babies can be born. Jared has heard of as many as eight being born in one litter. He wants that. He wants to be as full as possible with the pups of this knot. And even that isn’t enough. He needs to be heavy with pups and still have the knot.

What’s going on? These aren’t his usual dreams or thoughts.

Jared wakes up. There is no alpha next to him. He is still in the thicket near the gates. The scent of an alpha nearby lingers around him but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.

Fortunately, Jared feels better by this time and the school day is nearly over. He sits up and looks around, past the brush. Once he is assured of the privacy afforded to him by the thicket, he kneels and drops his jeans. He wants the plug out. Before he goes home he can reinsert it, but for now it would be a great relief to be rid of it and the pressure. He whines when the plug will not leave. Pushed or pulled out, the effort is greater than the energy or strength he has. His entrance is also quite tender but there’s very little he can do about that. Possessing little vigor to do any more, he has no other option except to leave it as it is.

Jeans pulled up again, Jared waits out the hour by taking out his book. No one in this book has mentioned plugs or clamps or beads. In fact, there is hardly anything sexual about the relationship between Laurie and his admirers. Jared enjoys it, wiping sweat off of his forehead from being outside all morning.

Many of the homosexuals who gather in Bunny’s apartment drink too much, Ralph especially. This is, Jared surmises, meant to represent not only how weary Ralph is, but how experienced he is in the way of the world. Three tots of gin—what is a tot, he’ll have to ask Mr. Kelly later—and Ralph is announced to be drunk. Jared knows that were Andrew to drink even half as much he would be throwing up. This quality enhances Andrew’s purity and naïve nature, but is that a good or bad thing? Which does Laurie prefer? Why would he want an alpha like that?

Would Laurie be considered an omega? Jared likes to think he would be. Andrew is much too timid to be thought of as a proper alpha, but there are some alphas with softer personalities. However, Ralph fits the profile better and Jared thinks that’s part of why he likes Ralph so much. His knot would ensure not only plenty of healthy children, but also pleasure for both partners. He would know how to use it, how not to force it in but how to meld their bodies together gradually. Jared lies down and raises the book above his head, still reading.

Laurie is unconsciously seeking an alpha. He isn’t sure who he needs more or who holds more promise: a young, honest lover or an experienced, commanding one. Both have their flaws. Ralph seems to have come to terms with his homosexuality, while Andrew is morally tied by his Quaker beliefs. Choosing Andrew would mean never having sex. There is sex without a knot, but it isn’t as satisfying for either party.

Every omega chooses their alpha. In many cases there are competitions for an omega’s affections; out here in Joliet, a town of seven thousand, omegas are in high demand. That is not the case in every town, at least according to what Jared knows.

At three, the bell rings and school lets out. Jared does his best to remain unseen. The lawns separate him from the main entryway, but there are a few omegas he knows with keen eyes. He came here for his after school session—not for actual class. Patiently, he waits for the school to empty. Ms. Lily leaves in a hurry, looking cross. Her tiny lavender hat bobs on her head from the speed with which she is walking. Trying not to smile, Jared rubs his abdomen, which is still cramping up from the come and plug inside him. If he concentrates on it too much it hurts a great magnitude more. Clearly the solution is to stop thinking about it. Stop. It doesn’t exist. That’s it.

Dinner tonight will be whatever remains of the chicken cacciatore. It has remained in the slow cooker since yesterday afternoon, but the cool weather has most likely kept it safe to eat tonight. Maybe later this week he’ll walk over to the maintenance staff and write another note asking about their electricity.

Half an hour passes and the activity near the doors eases up. Jared prepares himself to stand. His legs are a little shaky but he makes do. Passing out allowed him rest. He feels some hunger, but he pushes it back as easily as his classmates ran from school. Book and backpack in hand, Jared steps out of his hiding place. He walks up the lane to the school entrance. The omega school will host a dance in a few weeks. Alphas from the nearest academy will be invited over and they will all be allowed three dances each. Jared is excited. This is one chance to attract an alpha. Just the thought of an alpha other than his dad taking interest in him causes a smile to bloom on his face. Of course, Jared is eternally grateful for what his dad has provided him with. No one could find a more appreciative omega. However, Jared clings to the thought of any alpha wanting him, let alone two like Laurie has, and each with their own good qualities. The perfect alpha for him will be just that—perfect.

He reaches Mr. Kelly’s cubicle fully expecting to find the older omega with a pot of tea already set above the tea light candle. What books is he going to order this week? Could he order more like this one? Is it too much to read about things in the past?

Closer to the staff room door, he hears Mr. Kelly in conversation with another adult—from the sound of it, an alpha.

“You really didn’t have to come by.”

“If you don’t want me to, I won’t.”

“I… I didn’t say that.” Mr. Kelly sounds sad.

At his desk, leaning against it as Mr. Kelly sits, is the alpha. Upon sight of this alpha, Jared recalls the lines Laurie used to describe Ralph in the first few chapters, when they were teenagers: _He was slight and lean, with dusty-fair hair and eyes of a striking light blue which were narrowed by the structure of the orbit above, giving him a searching look even when he smiled._ Except, this alpha’s eyes are not blue, though they come very close to being mistaken as such with the blue, button up shirt he has on. They are green. Jared feels that this is an important distinction.

Jared must make some kind of noise, because the adults’ attentions turn to him. “Where have you been?” Mr. Kelly gasps and lurches out of his chair with unusual inelegance. “Jared, you…”

Mr. Kelly is an inch shorter than the alpha, with a curvier frame that suggests his omega status. His brown eyes and dark red hair compliment the alpha’s fairer coloring well. Careful hands reach out for Jared, and even though Jared senses that there is no harm meant, he flinches regardless. Mr. Kelly takes a step backward. He mutters to his alpha companion that he should be going _now_.

Green eyes flash at the command, but they are not angry. “This a student?” the alpha asks, pushing himself off the desk and standing straight, arms crossed over his chest. He wears black boots with a slight heel. The stubble on his face makes him look older.

Flustered, Mr. Kelly stammers, “Yes and I… we—we need a moment, please. Thank you for visiting, although as I said before, it isn’t necessary.”

The alpha is about to turn away from Jared, who has frozen in his place, until he notices the way Jared holds his backpack. “Is the strap broken?” the alpha inquires briskly. Jared shakes his head no because he cannot lie to any alpha who asks a direct question. There isn’t more than a notebook, his book, and a small pack of pens in his backpack, but the straps of it hurt the welts on his back. To remedy this, Jared has looped his right arm through the straps. He must look dirty, even after his shower, but that only suggests poor hygiene. Plenty of young people practice poor hygiene. This alpha is unconvinced.

“I think this is necessary now,” is announced to Mr. Kelly.

A badge is pulled out from the alpha’s back pocket. He holds it up to Jared. “Kid, I’m from the Department of Omega Care. Take a seat.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> read the tags! this is an especially graphic chapter, as is the next one.

Jared can never remember if the clouds are moving around the earth, or if the earth is moving underneath the clouds. He learned the correct answer in Science class last year. On good days, he will lie down in the patch of grass outside his hut and focus on the sky, searching for the answer himself.

Legally, the incident from last summer is an open case. Jared never confessed to who his attacker was and no one else came forward with a testimony. Officially, no one saw anything—not even Jared. Charges could not be brought forth. Jared declined all medical aid. The coroner was kind enough to leave him some salve and bandages. It took weeks for Jared to walk straight after that. He always avoids the dumpsters.

Presently, as he sits in a windowless white room, Jared wishes he was outside instead.

Mr. Kelly’s alpha companion brought him here to the station for a conversation and pictures. What kind of conversation and pictures, Jared had asked, but his questions went unanswered. He did get to ride in a car though, that was fun. Anywhere he needs to go, he has to walk. Jared isn’t sure he needs to be here but it was nice to be in a car. The alpha drove and Mr. Kelly sat in the front seat while Jared fidgeted in the back, trying to stay still. Driving seems complicated. He asked a few things to the alpha. What does that do? It’s the brake. And that? The gas. What about that? The blinker kid, sit down. Apparently, driving is so complicated that receiving questions while doing it upsets the alpha. Jared was very quiet after that.

The station is an overwhelming place to be. There are so many people _doing_ things. An omega up front waved to the alpha as they walked by and then answered one of many ringing phones. Another alpha along the way was seen eating a pastry and reading through paperwork, a very studious expression on his face. Miles of cabinets with similar looking paperwork lined the hallways and Jared even got a peek into a room that had nothing but cabinets. How could anyone keep track of anything? If he had to find _one_ piece of paper—would it be possible?

This room, however, is very boring. Jared was asked to turn over his backpack and his book to Mr. Kelly, who is waiting outside the room. “But I… I wanted to talk…” Jared had said before being ushered into the room and told to sit in one of the chairs. “Why is Laurie so jealous of Bunny?”

Hearing this, the alpha had given Mr. Kelly a strange look. Mr. Kelly refused to look at the alpha and muttered, “It’s a book we’re reading. You wouldn’t know it.”

A distracting thought darts through Jared’s mind. If he isn’t home by five to serve dinner…Jared curls up. He brings his knees up to his chest, even though the position causes him pain in his hips and chest. Are they supposed to have a conversation with pictures now or later, because Jared really needs it to happen soon so he can walk home. This is, perhaps, about ten miles from the hut, maybe? He wasn’t paying too much attention to the distance they drove, too distracted by the drive, and he chides himself for it. A mature omega would have been noticing not only the distance, but would have already found a shorter path back.

Finally, the one door in the room opens. Jared perks up. The same alpha walks in. How tall is he without his boots? With them, he is a good five inches taller than Jared.

“Huts aren’t exactly soundproof, are they?” the alpha mutters, flipping through a thin file. He shuts the door and walks over to the table, where the file is tossed. He remains standing and makes eye contact with Jared. “So, in a hut complex of about three hundred omega and alpha pairs, not one individual witnessed a thirteen year old omega being brutally beaten and discarded in a dumpster.” Piercing green eyes narrow. “Doesn’t that seem a little suspicious to you, Jared?”

“Yes,” Jared blurts out but quickly retracts his statement, tears quickly welling up. “No! No it doesn’t! It was… it was dark… it was dark and I was out… I was out after curfew and…”

“Easy,” the alpha sighs and sits down, legs spread in body language that clearly defines him as an alpha. Jared can’t help but think of the knot that must be in between those long legs. Focus. “If Kelly finds out I’ve made you cry, he’ll cut me.” The file is opened. This alpha has thick fingers. “Look, I don’t have much on you, Jared. Your mother died when you were small and you’ve lived in that hut for quite some time. You’re a good student and don’t cause trouble. Kelly says he gives you books and you read and process them at an advanced level. So, why are we here?”

Jared bites down on his bottom lip before answering. “Y-you brought me here.”

This is not the right answer. Jared is failing. Whatever test this is, he’s failing it miserably. “Okay,” the alpha says slowly and folds his hands on the table. “Why do you think I brought you here?”

What time is it? Should he speak up about dinner?

“Jared. Lift up your shirt.”

No. “Yes, sir.” No. He hasn’t had time to take out the plug or wash out the come inside him. At least let him prepare himself. Jared’s hands shake as they move. He stands and pushes his plain black shirt up to his nipples and lays belly down on the table with his legs already spread. If the alpha wants, Jared can pull down his jeans and briefs too, or he can do that himself, whichever would be best.

The chair that the alpha is sitting on moves back so abruptly that Jared flinches and closes his eyes, bracing himself for a smack. How could he have gotten something wrong already?

“That isn’t… Jared, get off the table,” the alpha growls and gets to his feet. “For fuck’s sake, get off the god damned table.”

“I’m sorry,” he yelps and moves as fast as possible, ignoring the pressure in his hips. He keeps his shirt lifted up and stands as still as possible with his head down and eyes on the floor in a position of respect. His middle pushes in and out with his erratic breathing, his belly button folding in a half smile or frown, he can’t tell which one. Jared is completely focused on every movement the alpha makes. Best to try and predict how his hair will be pulled or his ass grabbed.

“Is the same person who attacked you last summer the same one who left these marks?” the alpha asks, standing away from Jared. His voice is firm. “Do you understand what these marks are, Jared?”

Jared nods, unsure which question he’s answering.

“What do you think they mean?”

They mean lots of things, he wants to say. They mean that dad got a bonus at work and went to the bar to celebrate and when he got home it was time to show Jared how happy he was. They mean that Jared looks like his mother and that’s a problem. They mean that dad is lonely and misses mom. They mean that Jared just wouldn’t… he just wouldn’t fucking stay still and shut _up_. They mean that omegas are meant for this and if they weren’t, Jared would be dead. They mean that when Jared made dinner incorrectly the other night—one night of so many nights—the only way he would truly learn was to be beaten with an empty bottle until it shattered over his head and the world went dark.

They mean that this omega requires breaking.

“I was bad,” Jared whispers. At last, the plug loosens. Come squelches out and drips down into the inside of his jeans. He prays that the alpha can’t hear or sense it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> read the tags! graphic chapter.

The alpha’s name is Jensen.

Jensen invites in an omega who carries a white box. Jared is afraid of it.

“This is Marnee, Jared,” Jensen says and places his left hand on Marnee’s right shoulder. “She’s a nurse here at the station. We want to make sure those welts don’t get infected. Have you ever had a welt get infected, Jared?”

Well, yes, of course he has. Hasn’t everyone? For the brief moment that the door to the room is opened so that Marnee can slip in, noise from the station leaks in. There are phones constantly ringing and someone is always talking. These are new noises for Jared but he doesn’t mind them; they are better than what happens every other Monday night a few huts over from his. Ultimately, Jared responds with a nod. Marnee steps forward and waves at Jared. She is a very pretty omega, dressed in the same colors that Jensen is wearing, with clothes fitted to her figure. How did she get this job? Had she always wanted to be a nurse in a station?

“Hi, Jared. These are the things I’ll be using today.” Her voice is light. She opens the box slowly and takes out a small bottle, some cotton balls, bandages, and gloves. “I’ll be done in five minutes and then Jensen and Kelly are going to give you a ride home in a squad car. I heard you liked the ride here, huh?”

“Yes ma’am,” he answers quietly and sits on table. He does his best to keep his breathing steady; he fears the bottle of what he can tell is rubbing alcohol and he fears that the plug is going to push out if he breathes too hard. His middle already feels better than it did before, which leads him to think that his ribs were only bruised, but very deep breaths continue to cause him pain.

Marnee’s small hands prep a cotton ball. She asks him to keep his shirt lifted up and to tell her if it hurts too much. The first sting is torture. He cries even though he tries his best not to. He isn’t a little boy anymore. This isn’t the worst. No, by far, this isn’t the worst.

“Can you tell me what your favorite part of the car ride was?” she asks, dabbing at the largest welt, pushing the cotton ball in circles so not a spot is missed.

Jared sucks in a breath and grits out that he liked the blinker lights. He liked the sound the stick to turn them on made whenever Jensen pushed on it. He also liked the gas pedal better than the brake. If he’s honest, which he is he swears, he liked everything the best. It isn’t possible for him to pick one. Not all the marks from the belt have opened and Marnee works efficiently. She wraps a bandage around Jared’s middle and gives him permission to lower his shirt.

At this stage, she looks at Jensen. “Jen, there’s… there’s something else.” She leans up and into Jensen to whisper something that Jared tries not to hear. The alpha’s eyes go wide for a moment but swiftly turn distant. Marnee whispers to Jared. She wants to know if Jared likes having that plug inside him. Would he mind if she took a look at it? The box contains a salve she can put on him there.

Shame burns through him, up into his face. Their hurried glances at his hips and worried motions cause his chest to tighten. Good omegas take care of themselves. He can do this on his own in the hut. He’s done it before. It’ll be easier now that it’s loose.

Marnee senses his hesitation. She pats his shoulder. “I had this issue once too, Jared. It healed much better when my mother helped me take it out. The same salve she applied on me, I would apply on you. And Jensen won’t look, I promise. He’ll stand behind you and you can hold onto him while I ease it out. No one will know about this besides us.”

There is the worry that the absence of the plug and the come will draw greater consequences than keeping it in and dealing with the discomfort. But it’s beginning to itch and he feels bloated and hot all over. Maybe things went well at work today and there won’t be time or energy to notice the change. Another nudge from Marnee assuring him that Jensen won’t look, and Jared gives in. The sooner this is taken care of, the sooner they can leave and Jared can serve dinner. Positions are assumed. Jared’s jeans and boxers are wiggled off. Not a word is said about the deep bruises that cover his thighs and legs or the ring on his cock. The ring has been there since Jared had a growth spurt last winter. His cock is large for an omega but it looks smaller with the thick ring clamped down around it. No one mentions anything about the lock placed on the ring but Jared can tell that Marnee is working at keeping her expression neutral.

Jared sits on the edge of the table with his back to Jensen’s chest. Marnee kneels and props Jared’s legs onto her shoulders. She puts new gloves on and tentatively touches the base of the plug, testing its hold. The touch causes Jared to hiccup; he winces when he feels come push out. The older omega asks him to please hold onto Jensen’s arms. Jared obeys.

“On my command, Jared,” Marnee says softly. “One, two… push.”

The muscles there are swollen and stretched out of shape. Jared pushes and feels some relief. The muscles in his thighs and stomach tremble with effort as she has him push again. He cries out half in pain and half to cover up the sound of come gushing out and onto the floor. This doesn’t happen often, Jared wants to tell them. He’s usually very clean and capable after being knotted. He also means no disrespect to any alpha by removing the plug and the come.

A gentle hand pulls the last inch out of him. Two gloved fingers are inserted to scoop out whatever is left. She pushes down on his lower abdomen and Jared moans in relief. That terrible bloated feeling is gone.

“Much better, right?” Marnee coos as she cleans him up. “I’m going to dispose of it, if you don’t mind. It would be unsanitary to reuse it.” Jared doesn’t know how to answer to any of that so he remains quiet and still. Salve is applied and she helps him dress again. Jensen steps away and paces as Marnee writes something on the clipboard she brought in with her.

“I’ll speak to you later,” the older omega mutters to Jensen and shoves her clipboard at him. When she turns to Jared, her composure changes back to friendliness. “Jared, it was a pleasure meeting you. I hope you feel better. Thank you again for letting me help.” She gives a small bow and leaves.

The alpha sits down once more, ignoring the mess on the table and floor. He leans back and looks at Jared with curious eyes. “Is there anything else you want to tell me, Jared?” Promises are made that if Jared speaks up about his attacker, they’ll be put away and locked up. He can go to a new home until he graduates school and finds his own alpha. Jensen stresses the importance of telling the truth. It’s an omega’s duty to be honest to alphas so that everyone can work together. A minute later, Jensen adds that he can’t help Jared if a name is not given. Charges cannot be legally made until an omega speaks up.

Exhaustion sets into the young omega.

A sandwich is offered to him in exchange for a name.

When Jared still does not give one, Jensen sighs and shakes his head. He will follow up with Jared one week from today. “Try to stay out of trouble, kid.”

The door is opened and Mr. Kelly is still outside it, waiting, holding Jared’s backpack and book. Jensen whistles and motions to the door.

“C’mon, one last car ride.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> read the tags!

Just as Ralph seems to be winning Laurie over, Laurie admits that he’s _got someone._ And that someone is not Ralph. He rereads the section four times.

It goes from: _When they were washing up and making coffee in the little hole of a kitchen, Ralph said, looking up from his plate and tea-towel, “This is better, isn’t it, Spud?” “Yes,” said Laurie, “of course it is.” If only he hadn’t outstayed his pass so recently. Laurie hated the thought of leaving Ralph alone._

To: _There was a long silence after he had spoken. Then Ralph said, with the crudity of deep feeling, “You’ve got someone there.”_

As Laurie tells Ralph about Andrew and how wonderful he supposedly is, Jared hurts. Ralph has to sit there and listen to Laurie tell him about another alpha. Even more, Ralph has to endure the story of how Andrew must be protected from his homosexuality. _“You see, he—I think he quite likes me, and he mustn’t ever know. It would spoil his life, and there’s no need. One gives oneself away without meaning to. It’s much more important he should be all right.”_

_“Spud, for God’s sake. Stop it. It’s like a ghost.”_

_“What?” asked Laurie, confused._

And it goes on like that! Laurie completely misses the fact that when they were teenagers at the academy, Ralph refrained from becoming involved with Laurie because he feared ruining him and knocking him off his path. He wanted to give the omega a chance to live and see the world on his own, unbound by love or commitment to one person out of many in the world. He did all of that—sacrificed his own desires—and still, Laurie is ignorant.

The scene continues with Laurie insisting that Andrew’s virtue and innocence must be preserved. He rubs the alpha’s obvious pain at losing the omega’s affections right into his face.

Jared has to put down the book.

Mr. Kelly looks up from his reading. They are at Mr. Kelly’s cubicle three days after Jared’s visit to the station. He has been extremely fortunate so far; work has run on quite well for his dad. The factory has seen an upswing in orders and has been offering generous overtime in addition to double and triple shifts. Two days have passed since Jared has even seen dad in the hut and last night, as he arrived from his last double, all he did was collapse into his space on the other side of the divider and sleep like the dead.

Two and a half nights of uninterrupted sleep have given Jared a chance to rest. His back looks better, according to Mr. Kelly, who checks it every afternoon. Between his legs has also healed but Jared checks on that himself every morning.

“You don’t always agree with the narrator’s decisions, Jared,” Mr. Kelly murmurs, placing a bookmark in his place and turns his attention to the young omega. “That happens in reality as well, doesn’t it? We don’t always agree with the decisions our friends or family make.”

“The right alpha is in front of him and he can’t… it’s terrible!” Jared blurts out, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff.

“And how do you know Ralph is the right alpha?”

“Because.”

“Because why?” Before Jared can elaborate, a knock to one of the cubicle walls is heard.

“Don’t you two do anything else other than read boring ass books?” Jensen snorts and leans against a wall. Today he is not dressed in blue and khaki, but he is wearing the same black boots.

“Some of us are intellectuals,” Mr. Kelly sniffs in response and looks to Jared. “Isn’t that right?”

The wrong thing to say escapes Jared’s mouth. “Is Jensen your Ralph?”

For a moment that seems too long and awkward, everyone freezes. A blush crawls over Mr. Kelly’s features and Jensen clears his throat. Jared looks down at the floor and mumbles an apology that is barely audible. He should have stayed silent. In a low voice, Mr. Kelly states that there is no reason to be sorry; Jared didn’t mean anything by his comment.

Jensen claps his hands together once and looks at the two of them. The confident voice of the alpha gets both omegas’ attention. “I’m starving and it’s my day off and I had this brilliant, genius idea: why don’t I take out my two favorite omegas for dinner?”

“At the station?” Jared asks and places a bookmark in his book just like Mr. Kelly did.

An easy smile is given to him from the alpha. “No way, kid. I’m off duty today. Anywhere you wanna go grab a bite, it’s my treat.”

Jared looks to Mr. Kelly.

Sighing, the older omega shakes his head. “That’s nice of you, Jen, but I’ve got plans after my meeting with Jared.”

This time, it’s Jensen’s turn to say the wrong thing. “What, you got a hot date?”

“Yes,” is replied stiffly. “I do, actually.”

It is just about four and their meeting is technically over. Jared reaches under his seat to grab his backpack. He picked up a small chunk of salami at the butcher’s this morning and if he gets to it within the hour, it will make an excellent sandwich for dinner. There is half a loaf of bread in the cupboards. He should get more the next time he is near the plant for the empties. Even though his dad is working another double tonight, Jared wants to have dinner set up just in case. Besides, he has homework and Ms. Lily has been doubly tough on his assignments after his absence this week.

“Oh no,” Jensen declares and pokes Jared’s shoulder. “I came here to take someone out to eat with me and if Kelly’s gonna bail on me for tail, then you are stuck with me kid.”

Wide-eyed, Jared stares at Jensen in shock.

An invitation from an alpha?

Yes, he was invited before, but that was with Mr. Kelly. Now, the invitation is solely for _him_ and he can hardly believe it. As he is about to decline as politely as possible, Mr. Kelly voices that he thinks it would be a great idea for Jared to join Jensen. With a nudge to Jared’s backpack, Mr. Kelly murmurs that Jared shouldn’t give up on Laurie just yet. They can discuss a few more chapters tomorrow if Jared wants.

“Both of you take care. Jared, I’ll see you tomorrow. Jensen…” Mr. Kelly sighs once more. “Remember what we spoke of.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jensen says and waves Mr. Kelly off. Once the two of them are alone, Jensen picks up Jared’s backpack and slings it over his own shoulder. “Alright, now, we have three choices, kid: pizza, burgers, or hot dogs.”

 

The Department of Omega Care works to ensure that all omegas are treated fairly in all aspects of life. Access to healthcare, reproductive information, and therapy are just a few of the services provided by the DOC. Being a fairly new department, it is not as well-staffed or funded as its sibling departments. Still, those who work there are committed to ensuring that every omega is safe and taken care of. Not all calls are from omegas being mistreated by their alphas. Some calls are about omegas abusing other omegas. Regardless of who the complaint comes from, it is the DOC’s responsibility to follow up and follow through with every case.

“Been on the force for just about seven years,” Jensen says just before he takes a large bite out of his cheeseburger. “Joined after my eighteenth birthday. Got promoted from grunt to detective in five years and made the switch over to this department last year. We’re planning on hiring and expanding more but you know how the system is.” He takes a few fries and chomps on them hungrily. “Politics, you know?”

Jared does not know, he nods anyway.

An entire plate full of fries and his own cheeseburger sits in front of him. There is also a plate of onion rings in the middle of the table, plus two chocolate milkshakes with whipped cream and cherries on top. Jared has never seen so much food, not even at school. And it’s all made fresh. Whatever Jensen chose from the menu was made then and there, at the grill on the other side of the restaurant, and brought over hot and fresh. The milkshakes were decided on a little later, but they too were made when Jensen requested them, with their waitress scooping vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce into a metal tube and stirring it under a loud machine. Everything about the restaurant continues to awe Jared. He watches their waitress run back and forth between tables and the kitchen. On her way there, her hands are empty or the plates she holds are cleaned of food. On her way back, her hands are full and the plates she carries are brimming with food.

How is all this wonderful food for him? Is there something he should be doing to earn the food provided to him? But he doesn’t have more than three dollars in his backpack and he knows that all this food cost so much more.

Wheezing, Jared grips onto the table.

“Hey, eat up,” Jensen says. “C’mon, take a bite.”

“In… in the car!” Jared blurts out with a squeak, unable to steady his voice. He looks at Jensen in hopes of finding some kind of hint. “I’ll… in the car… I’ll…” What he means to say is that in exchange for the cost of this food, he can offer his mouth, or, if this costs much more than he thinks it does, his ass. “I won’t… I won’t struggle,” he continues, “and I-I-I promise to be quiet.”

A look of alarm spreads over Jensen’s features. “No!” he says too loudly. “I mean… Jared, I’m not…”

The waitress comes over with the check. She places it facing down and slides it over to Jensen with a dirty look. Jensen grumbles something under his breath and places a few bills over the check. He leans in from across the booth, green eyes tired but concerned. “Look, Jay, I bought you dinner because I wanted company. You did me the favor, so that means I pay for dinner. You… you don’t have to do anything else.” Jensen picks up a fry and holds it out to Jared.

What he says seems to be sincere.

“So,” the alpha says as Jared takes the fry, “where was I? Oh! Yeah, new hires.” 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the tags!

In the parking lot of the diner, Jensen and Jared sit on the front hood of Jensen’s personal car, which is much smaller than the squad car. It is also more inviting in its own way, painted a dark green instead of only black. There are no sirens but the same components are inside the car. Jared likes it.

They are both full from dinner and comfortable for once, with the silence in between them

However, Jensen breaks it by declaring that he can tell the weather in the future. He bumps his shoulder against Jared’s. “Go on. Ask me what the weather is going to be like in ten seconds.”

Hesitantly, Jared repeats the question, unsure of where this is going. “What is the weather going to be like in ten seconds?”

Jensen laughs, his straight, white teeth on display. He sticks out his hand and reports that the weather will be sunny and partially cloudy ten seconds from now. Jared counts to ten. The weather is indeed still sunny and partially cloudy. The alpha insists that ten seconds into the future is still technically the future. His psychic abilities are strong and should be noted by all. Jared smiles to himself and follows Jensen back inside the car.

Sometimes he can’t always tell what will happen in ten seconds’ time. Sometimes a hand or a belt can appear within that span of time and Jared’s life will change.

But this is nice. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the tags!

Amber, forest green, clear.

Glass is worth more, though the plant does take cans. In two large garbage bags, Jared collects empties of all kinds. Amber, forest green, clear. Sometimes he’ll find a differently colored bottle and he is tempted to keep it because it’s pretty, but the nickel is worth more than the trouble of hanging onto it. He once tried putting flowers into a few bottles as decoration but superfluous items—isn’t that a wonderful word?—have been known to cause him harm. It’s just better not to have them. It’s just better.

The bottles and cans rattle around the bags as he lugs them four miles to the plant. His arms can take the strain but it’s his hands that have a difficult time with this chore. Garbage bags are the only bags big enough to hold all the empties without making two trips. Unfortunately, they don’t come with handles. Jared has tried various methods over the years and one spring he had a red wagon with only one busted wheel that helped immensely. He made the mistake of leaving the wagon outside overnight and the next morning it was gone. Thinking about it now, as one of the bags rips, he sighs and hopes that the wagon went to a child who is enjoying it for reasons he never did.

There are no weekends for school. Jared is aware that some people with jobs, like Jensen, get Saturday and Sunday off. What does he do, Jared asked when they talked about it in the car after dinner, what does he find to do for two whole days? Mr. Kelly is allowed one day off in the week but usually on a Monday or a Tuesday. Jared doesn’t know if alpha schools run the same way but his Saturdays and Sundays are spent in class. Today, Ms. Lily felt ill so she released them early. This gives Jared a chance to go to the plant, buy a loaf of bread, and come back to clean while there is still daylight. He ties the torn bag with a secure knot. Knot. He flinches and wipes the sweat off his forehead. It’s cold out but the exercise has him flushed. Knot, knot, knot. Jensen called him Jay. Kneeling on the ground, Jared tries to steady himself. There is no plug or come inside him so his belly should not be cramping as it is. He closes his eyes and breathes in sharply. Is that slick? It isn’t much but he can feel familiar stickiness gather between his legs and for once his dormant cock pulls against its ring.

Amber, forest green, clear. Focus. The sooner he gets to the plant, the sooner he can buy bread before all the good loaves are snatched up. And when he gets back to the hut he can spare a few minutes to read. Andrew has somewhat fallen from Laurie’s graces after refusing to tend to a dying Catholic man. A priest was not available to administer something called the last rites, so Laurie pleaded with Andrew to pretend he was one just to soothe Charlot in his moments before death. Andrew refused. A lie was a lie, he insisted to Laurie, who snapped at him and things were awkward between them even after apologies were made. Even Jared understood the necessity of lying. No, it was not good to lie _all_ the time. That would make him a bad person. However, little lies here and there have prevented him from causing trouble or inconvenience to anyone else. Some lies keep him alive.

Breaks are made on the rest of the journey but eventually, Jared makes it to the plant. He stands in line with others for half an hour before his turn. One hundred and twenty-five glass bottles earns him one dollar and twenty-five cents.

“Wait,” he says after being handed his money. “It… I… I brought one hundred twenty five, sir. It should be… at least…” As fast as possible he does the math in his head. “Six and a quarter.”

The alpha on duty shakes his head and snaps at Jared to stop holding up the line. He is shoved aside by a rough hand and the next person steps up to have their bottles counted and money paid out. Unable to move, Jared stands there in shock, staring at the amount in his hand. Someone grumbles that the plant has been receiving too many cash-ins and reduced the amount of pay out to a penny a bottle. The cans are still done by weight but they are down from a quarter a pound to a dime. That line earns Jared sixty cents.

It’s not enough.

A loaf of bread costs six dollars. Even with the three still in his pocket he doesn’t have enough. Panic sets in and Jared runs from the plant, leaving behind his bags. Dad has never set any actual rules in the hut, things just are that way and Jared doesn’t question them. But one has always been clear: bread must be in the cupboard at all times. Jared has never failed in this aspect. He fears the outcome of his failure so much that he contemplates stealing a loaf. One small loaf wouldn’t possibly be missed.

Everyone else in the bakery has their own problems, Jared knows this. The omega buying two wheat loaves has an alpha with health issues and takes care of him faithfully even though he takes her roughly. The world doesn’t stop for Jared’s problems or anyone else’s.

Day old bread only gets a nickel discount. He still does not have enough. One of the smallest day old loaves—regular white—costs five fifty. There has to be something he can do to make up for the difference. He clutches the loaf to himself; it’s the smallest and cheapest one out and it’s his until he decides how he’ll pay for it, which he _will_ but he needs time to think. Think, think, think. How can he walk up to the counter and offer the owner something in return? Is that a thing that is done? But how does he even mention it without embarrassing the owner? How can he say that for the difference, Jared will stay quiet under the counter or in the backroom or after closing if he wants— _anything_.

“Jay.”

Jared gasps and digs his fingers into the loaf. It’s his.

“Hey,” Jensen calls out from the end of the aisle. “I thought I saw you.”

“Yes, yes you did,” Jared replies, trying to compose himself. The presence of this alpha does not negate his need to make a plan. What if he offers the owner all of his money for half the loaf?

Green eyes are quick in their assessment. Jensen is a good detective. He likes putting bad people away. If Jared steals this loaf, that makes him one of the bad people Jensen needs to put away.

“So…” Jensen selects one of the largest loaves of plain white bread from a top shelf. He doesn’t look at Jared as he speaks. “I’m making something for dinner that’s kind of complicated. You see, the recipe is kind of like beef wellington, do you know what that is?” Jared nods. “Cool. Okay, well, I have to cut it a particular way so it cooks in the oven well. But the problem I always have is too much bread leftover. It’s cheaper to buy the large loaf.” He holds it up. “Instead of one small one but I don’t wanna waste anything. What do you suggest I do?”

This is a problem Jared has never had: having too much bread. He stammers out that Jensen could make sandwiches with his extra portions. Or, if he wraps the bread carefully, it won’t go stale quite as fast.

Jensen frowns. “Those are great solutions, but you see, I… I’m not a big sandwich eater.”

Why are they having this conversation? Jared can’t afford what is in his hands and here this alpha is bragging about how much bread he has leftover. This is unlike Jensen.

“Maybe you could do me another favor,” the alpha says in a serious tone. “The recipe really works better if I start with a large loaf but I’m always left with half. Would you mind taking the other half? I really hate wasting food and money.”

How can someone offer _free_ bread like this? What does Jensen want? Whatever it is, he’ll have to receive it in his car because Jared can’t bring anyone to the hut. Unless he means to have it right here in the bakery, so others can see how needy of an omega Jared is and how generous of an alpha Jensen is, buying bread for an omega that isn’t even his. That has to be it. That is the only conclusion Jared can formulate and it makes perfect sense to him. Jensen said he didn’t want anything in exchange for the dinner but he was probably only being polite.

The small loaf is placed back on the day old rack. Jared drops down on his knees in front of Jensen in the aisle. He tilts his head back and opens his mouth. Ready. Jensen can start at any time.

“No,” Jensen yelps and kneels down on the floor to be eye level with Jared. “Oh no, I… fuck… I didn’t mean that you had to give me… Jay, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry. Sorry I wasn’t clearer.” A deep blush covers his entire face, all the way from his ears to the slightly crooked bridge of his nose. Jared notices that Jensen has freckles. They aren’t obvious at first but they are there. Jensen takes in a deep breath and looks away from Jared to an omega staring at them from the end of the aisle. It isn’t peculiar for an omega to service an alpha in public if that’s what the alpha wants. It is highly strange for an alpha to be kneeling with an omega. “Take a picture,” Jensen snaps at the onlooker, “it lasts longer.”

Jensen’s voice can change as he needs it to. Jared can barely manage a pretend British accent.

“I know exactly how much bread I need for this recipe,” Jensen starts over, his voice switched back to the tone he uses when speaking to Jared, which is softer but still in a low rumble. “So do you mind if I just cut it off and give it to you now? Like I said, you’d be doing me another favor, if you’re okay with that.”

Jared pulls out two dollars from his jeans and holds it out to Jensen. “Please,” he says, trying to keep his voice from being lost in the noise of the store. “I can’t take it if it’s free. I’m not stealing. I’m not bad.”

A smile joins the blush on Jensen’s face. “No, Jay, you’re not bad. This isn’t stealing. I’m giving this to you.”

“Why?” Jared presses, even though he knows he has no authority or right to question an alpha. An answer is not given until Jensen pays for the loaf and they are outside. Jensen tears apart the loaf with his hands and gives a large portion of it to Jared in a plastic bag. This bag has handles.

None of Jared’s money is accepted. They stand next to Jensen’s car for a moment. He is off duty.

 _Sometimes things are easier if there isn’t anyone to know how you’re feeling. Especially if it’s something you ought not to feel_.

_“You mustn’t worry any more, Spud. There’s nothing difficult or complicated or anything. I’m there when you want me. That’s all.”_

“No worries, Jay. I’m here when you want me. That’s all. Good night, make use of that bread.”

“Good night,” Jared breathes, holding the bag with both hands in front of him. “I will.” 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the tags!

Ralph and Laurie go together to Laurie’s mother’s wedding.

The development makes Jared happy.

He reads this section just in time for the school dance. His anxiety matches Laurie’s, although in different ways. Jared is worried about his outfit. Classmates have been chirping all week about their clothes and how they’ll style their hair. Omegas are more fluid in their gender presentation than alphas, and many of Jared’s male classmates are taking the opportunity to wear feminine garments. Earlier, as Jared walked over to the maintenance building across the property, he noticed some dresses hanging on a line. It has never occurred to him to wear anything else other than jeans and shirts—this is all that was provided to him when he was small. It’s all that he goes searching for in the take-away bins from donation centers.

Those dresses on the line fluttered in the wind, waving mysteriously at him as he passed by. What must it feel like to wear silk? He imagines it as freeing. He thinks of this now as he prepares for the dance. His cock has grown again, which is causing him issues, but that’s only a minor discomfort and he can always push that aside. After a shower in the community bathroom, he wraps himself in a towel and pads back to the hut to dress. What shirt should he go in? He has never worn his light green v-neck shirt to school. All of his shirts have long sleeves but this shirt is special. The stitching on it is finer. Its previous owner had only worn it once, Jared assesses from the look and feel of it. He is always sure to take special care of it. Today, it has been aired out, hung up as soon as he arrived from school.

The dance is at seven and goes until nine. He is as excited as he is nervous. A few of his classmates have alphas that are already sweet on them, and tonight they’ll get to make public displays of affection. Lifelong partnerships could be started tonight. Anything could happen.

Jared might get noticed.

He tries not to smile but does anyway as he smoothes out his selection of jeans.

Earlier this afternoon, Mr. Kelly kept their meeting short so Jared would have enough time to go home and get ready. There were a million things Jared wanted to ask, most of them involving what to do when an alpha expresses interest in an omega, but he couldn’t find his voice. What keeps Ralph coming back to Laurie? Why not go find an omega who is more appreciative of the lengths he has gone to make Laurie comfortable? There are millions of omegas out there that would take Ralph’s kindness and never let it go or allow it to go unforgotten. These were the only questions Jared managed to ask during their shortened meeting.

“Yes, that is certainly true,” Mr. Kelly had admitted, setting his glasses down on the desk between them. “Why should any alpha stay with any omega, Jared? If that is the case here, why for everyone else?”

His original answer had been something along the lines of convenience or attraction. But as he thought about it, he wasn’t so sure. Why does anyone stay? Why did he stay? True, he had nowhere else to go and being on the streets as a young omega could result in worse things, but did he have to stay? No. The idea of leaving frightens him. It always has. He wonders, even after their discussion, if it always will.

Aiding the younger omega, Mr. Kelly had murmured, “Ralph sees something special in Laurie. Something that’s clear to him when they are young, even if it isn’t to Laurie. That something special follows them through time and injury. He stays because he feels that Laurie is worth it. Can you understand that?”

Not entirely, Jared had confessed.

As he hangs his chosen outfit on the window, brushing out wrinkles, he thinks of Jensen. He has never asked the alpha if he has an omega or if Mr. Kelly was once his omega. It isn’t any of his business. Neither adult offers information about the other so Jared takes care not to intrude on their privacy. Mr. Kelly generously spends his free time with Jared because Jared enjoys reading, not because he enjoys gossiping. It wouldn’t be appropriate.

Still, he would like to know.

Jensen is very different off duty. He is never mean in his uniform. His voice gets sharper and his eyes reveal no emotion—but he is never truly hostile or uncaring. Yesterday, at school, he took Jared into an empty classroom and asked for his official statement. It was all business. No, Jared still did not know who hurt him last week or last summer. No, Jared did not want to continue an investigation. Yes, Jared would be more careful around the hut complex. Yes, Jared knew that Jensen was always there if he needed something, and yes, he knew that if he did not feel comfortable talking to Jensen he could speak to Mr. Kelly. Yes, he understood that Jensen would not force him to provide a name or confront his attacker but that he would appreciate any and all cooperation. All of Jared’s responses were written down in a file with the rest of Jensen’s neat block handwriting.

Yes, he also knows that one day, it will be the worst. It will be too bad.

Naked, Jared searches for clean briefs and socks. He just had them here, where could they have gone?

The door opens and the towel from under it is kicked aside; a precursor.

Early. Dad is home early. What happened? He was doing so well at the factory. Jared was so proud. Being busy is a good thing for dad—he doesn’t drink as much. The damage to his liver takes a rest if he’s clocking in more hours.

A long time ago, Jared tried hiding. He would hide underneath piles of clothes or huddle in between garbage bags. It was worth trying a few times, but ultimately yielded worse results. Hiding meant he was being ungrateful. Hiding was arguing.

Hiding was asking for it.

Dad has a face. He does. It’s there. Maybe it looks like Jared’s face. It has to, at least a little, even if Jared looks like his mother. Jared can’t remember the photograph in his locker now. Heavy, industrial boots lurch forward, unsteady and loud. They stomp through garbage. They crush cans and shatter empties. Jared will clean that up later; yes, he’ll get to it in just a moment. For now, he is frozen still, staring at the unlaced boots as they plow forward, closer and closer. The hut isn’t large. Jared can reach the front door from his side of the divider. But the bulldoze of the boots takes an age.

Factory work pays for this hut every month. It also makes dad’s clothes smell like meat that has been left out to sit in the sun. It takes effort to hold back his tears from the stench and what is about to happen.

A voice skims through his head, distant, but clear. “Go on. Ask me what the weather is going to be like in ten seconds.”

One second it is sunny, partially cloudy.

The next second it is raining.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the tags!

Jared arrives at the dance one hour after it has already started. His tardiness couldn’t be helped.

Ms. Lily makes a comment as she opens the door and lets him in. It’s something about failing things that aren’t even graded but he doesn’t catch it completely. Once he’s inside the school’s gymnasium she sees the purple swelling underneath his left eye. This isn’t school hours so she doesn’t ask; Jared is grateful.

It wasn’t so bad. It isn’t so bad. He limps over to the bleachers, where omegas without partners are waiting to be asked to dance. Not too bad at all. Yes, his right ankle is sprained and there is another plug inside him, but it was so quick in comparison to some nights. Just a beating and the plug being inserted and that was it. The beating involved bottles on his head and a punch to the face—by some miracle, he has gotten the swelling in his eye to go down—but the belt did not make an appearance. Despite this seemingly good fortune, the swiftness of today’s experience has Jared concerned. But it’s probably best to refocus his attention on what he can control.

Gingerly, he takes a seat at the end of the bleachers, sitting straight with his shoulders back despite the pain. His hair hasn’t set right since his hands have been pulling on and twisting it, but he did find a bobby pin on the sidewalk on the way here. His usually unruly bangs are pinned back by the lone pin and he hopes it looks somewhat decent. A few omegas have curled their hair or straightened it and they look very pretty. Jared tucks a stray piece of hair behind his ear.

The couples on the dance floor look lovely. Everyone seems to be having a wonderful time. Not too much longer after Jared takes his seat, an alpha makes his way over from the other side of the room. He walks up to the omega sitting closest to Jared and asks him to dance. That’s alright. There are others. Jared tries to fix a wrinkle out of his green shirt. He notices that some omegas, male and female, are wearing heels so they appear taller and older. All he owns are sneakers. How can they dance with heels on? Or at all? It looks simple enough, just a sort of back and forward kind of setup. The music playing all evening is slower. It’s the kind of music Ms. Lily referred to in class as “tasteful” and “elegant.” Every alpha has their hands on their partner’s waist, settled there respectfully.

Adult chaperones line the perimeter of the makeshift dance floor and keep a careful eye on each couple. Mr. Kelly is among them but he is speaking to one of the alpha chaperones. Well, he is more than just speaking, Jared notices after a few glances over to the older omega. Mr. Kelly is leaning in, whispering and smiling and slipping his hand into the alpha’s. Their fingers brush together before clasping firmly. Oh. Jared pries his eyes away from Mr. Kelly’s business and refocuses on the alphas his age across the gym. He smiles when another alpha bravely crosses over in search of a partner. For a moment it seems like she is looking at Jared. His toes curl in the soft soles of his sneakers and he bites his bottom lip. The song that is starting would be perfect. Any of them would be. Any at all.

“Care to dance?” is asked… to the omega directly behind Jared on the bleachers. A hand is extended and accepted by a happy and relieved omega, who says, “I thought you’d never ask.”

That’s alright. They seem like a good match.

Is it the bobby pin? Or his eye? Or can everyone somehow see through his clothes? Can they see how lanky he is or how the bruises and wounds on him form gradients of yellow to black to purple? What can they see? What do they see? Jared picks at the sleeve of his shirt. Three more songs pass and three times over, he watches alphas ask other omegas to the dance floor.

A committee of omegas from the sophomore class was in charge of decorations for tonight. Beige and cream colored silk has been expertly draped throughout the gym, along with lighter, fluffy pieces of silvery tulle. It nearly feels like they are surrounded by clouds. Jared closes his eyes for a moment as the current song ends. Before another song picks up from the sound system, an announcement is made by the lead alpha chaperone: there will be two more dances.

Couples are hurriedly formed. Those that did not have the courage to ask before, do so now.

Lights are dimmed for the final two songs. The second to last tune is a little faster than any of the others that have played tonight. Everyone enjoys it, from what Jared can tell. He is the only omega left.

It might have been best to stay at home tonight.

Fire is in his cheeks as he feels the curious stares of his classmates when the song ends. Last song. A few couples change partners; a small pause is taken to do so. From his seat on the bleachers, Jared hiccups, trying not to burst into tears like a child. This was his opportunity to be noticed—to be seen. He refuses to allow anyone to see him cry. He keeps his head down and his shoulders are trembling but he is not shedding a tear for anyone. A stomach cramp rolls through and he barely feels it. In a few moments he will give in to the exhaustion of the day. That’s good. He will sleep through the night this way.

Yes, well.

He takes the bobby pin out of his hair and tucks it into his pocket.

The last song starts up, quiet and slow. This is the last time for couples to hold each other before the end of the night. It is also the last time Jared has to watch everyone else’s happiness.

After this it’s back home.

Back to the hut. Back to the garbage bags filled with memories and collectibles of a former life and person. Back to the front door that never shuts properly. Back to the deep crack in the floorboards of the living space, created by Jared’s struggling to get away. Back to the roaring, terrible, plowing of black boots. Back to amber, forest green, and clear bottles. Back to being smashed against the divider, pushed into it, screaming and shaking as hard as it was being rattled. Back to watching blood and spit and come smear over the cheap plastic shell that has no real reason except to make the rent to go up every six months because it is technically two living spaces instead of one.

Back to the tiny patch of grass he waters for no other reason than he enjoys being barefoot on it in the summertime.

The heavy gym doors open and shut loudly. Someone has either arrived or left; Jared doesn’t look up to see. He should have slipped out ten minutes ago. In fact, he should leave now. There is no point in staying for the pictures and refreshments provided after dancing.

There is no point in being…

“Ahem.”

A hand is extended.

“I don’t know shit about dancing,” is confessed in a low rumble. The owner of the voice possesses a pair of green eyes. “But maybe you’d swing me another favor and take a chance on someone with two left feet?”

Jared hesitates to grab hold of the offered hand. What is he doing here at a high school dance? Doesn’t he see that all the good omegas already have partners? Doesn’t he realize that this could hurt Jared more than it would help him? False hope lies in the hand that has a dust of freckles over the knuckles. What if after this, he doesn’t want anything in return? Everything Jared knows about himself that is of any value, this alpha has turned down.

Maybe Jared will get hurt. If he turns down this hand, the alpha will definitely be hurt. And Jared isn’t like Laurie; he isn’t ungrateful. He’s just confused. But so what if he gets hurt, if his offer of repayment is pushed aside again, if this goes nowhere. What is one more bag to a dumpster stall already overflowing?

He nods, sniffs, and follows Jensen out onto the dance floor.

They move a little differently than the other couples. Jensen slides one firm, strong hand to the small of Jared’s back and pushes them close together. He cups his free hand with one of Jared’s and in a few movements they are dancing, actually dancing. One, two, three. One, two, three. Not a toe is stepped on. With his right arm wrapped around Jensen’s shoulder, Jared moves with him as best he can. He can see freckles up close now. Jensen is dressed in his uniform. He must have just gotten done with his shift.

Their hips bump together. The alpha gives a small smile and starts to murmur to the song. “Chances are you think that I’m in love with you.” He’s nervous but Jared can’t imagine why. “Chances are you think my heart’s your valentine. In the magic of moonlight, when I sigh, hold me close dear.” He squeezes Jared’s hand. “Guess you feel you’ll always be the one and only one for me.” His voice dips playfully at _only_ ; it makes Jared smile in return. It really does feel like they’re floating. “If you think you could, well chances are your chances are awfully good.”

Jensen’s voice is exquisite. It is unrefined in the best of ways—raw and naturally melodic. Even when he’s not trying to sing the lyrics well, his voice permeates everything, even the nervous pounding and rattling of Jared’s heartbeat.

A deep breath reveals black coffee, cologne, and starch. The song begins to wind down. One more chorus. Jensen slows their movements. His hand is warm against Jared’s back.

“Guess you feel you’ll always be the one and only one for me. And if you think you could, well, chances are your chances are awfully good. The chances are your chances are awfully good…”

What does any of this mean?

 

“Thank you,” Jensen breathes into Jared’s ear.

He kisses Jared’s hand.

Everyone is staring.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the tags!

“What are you doing, Jay?”

“Pinching myself.”

“Uh… why?”

“I fell asleep.”

“Okay…”

“I fell asleep and I’m dreaming.”

“I see. Well, if you’re dreaming, dream me up a burger. I’m starving.”

“No,” Jared snips. “This is _my_ dream, not yours.”

“Oh, excuse me.”

They sit in the school’s parking lot, on the roof of Jensen’s squad car.

“It isn’t working.”

“Nope. Guess you’re not dreaming.”

“…”

“Isn’t that good? This is real.”

“No it’s not,” Jared whispers and turns away from Jensen. “I’m dead.”

“You’re not dead either, Jay.”

“How do you know?” he snaps, shoulders bristling. “How’d you know about the dance?” Turning back towards the alpha, Jared makes direct eye contact. “Why do you keep showing up? You never take my offers.” It hurts to admit that out loud. If Jared were a more attractive omega then Jensen would have gladly accepted _something_. At least the beatings and everything else that waits for him back at the hut are concepts he understands. With his chest heaving from effort, Jared blurts out sharply, “What’s the point if you don’t use me?”

Silence dominates.

Any moment now, Jared will either wake up or this will end. He has never paid much attention to the mentions of afterlives in the books Mr. Kelly gave him. Even if the afterlife is replaying this scene over and over again he can accept that. He resigns himself to it as he slides off the roof and stands facing away from the car in the direction of the hut.

It’s all too good to be true. He must have died somewhere in between getting dressed and walking to school. Maybe his body is in the stall again. Maybe it’s still… in use.

What did it matter that he was sleeping? What did it matter that he was screaming for it to stop? What did any of that mess—what did any of that garbage—matter? Did it matter to anyone, anyone at all that he gave and gave until the chambers in his heart collapsed? No.

He folds himself up by the front wheel of Jensen’s car, sitting on the ground with his knees pulled up.

When he hears the sound of boots on the pavement, he covers his head with his arms.

If a stranger had walked past their hut a month ago, they would have heard an alpha beating an omega. That could be any hut but this one would have stood out. The omega’s voice would have been younger. And unlike older omegas, who knew better, they would have heard piercing, agonized wails. They would have heard the hammering of the plastic divider. A look inside, past the door that never shut properly, they could have seen the omega’s jean clad legs thrashing. They would have seen the hole in omega’s left sock, growing larger and tearing wider as the omega’s foot pushed against the floorboards, trying to brace themselves.

And most of all, they’d have seen and heard the moment when the struggle ended.

Who cared then?

No one.

Who cares now?

N…

“One can see sometimes in a crowded railway carriage at night two lovers, lethargic, travel-grimed, and bored, weary beyond the dimmest stirrings of desire, but by instinct comfortably adapting their bodies to cushion and support each other, making a little refuge from the crush.”

Those are not words in his head.

That’s Laurie’s observation one page before he and Ralph have a row. They are trying to settle things between them but Laurie is still torn between the two alphas. It isn’t fair to compare them together but he does so anyway, a few times thinking that Ralph wouldn’t do this or Ralph would do that. There aren’t that many pages left in between that scene and the end.

Jensen’s uniform wrinkles as he kneels down to Jared.

“I like that book,” he whispers. “I like that you like it, too.”

The hand on Jared’s shoulder doesn’t shove him or pitch him backwards or move to pull his hair.

He just can’t understand it.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the tags! Small time skip--two weeks later after the dance.

Jensen lives in an apartment towards the center of the city.

As he is unlocking the door, he describes it, as if he’s trying to prepare Jared for the worst. It’s cheap, it’s tiny, but it’s clean and it’s all his. Jared can tell that the alpha has a sense of pride over his space. In the entryway, Jensen gives Jared a small tour. Almost everything can be seen from the front door. There is one bedroom, tucked away behind a wide hallway, a bathroom, a kitchen, and an in-unit washer/dryer. The heat is free, Jensen mentions, and sets his keys down on the kitchen counter.

It is a lovely space. There isn’t too much in it, not even on the walls.

When he moved in a year ago, the carpet was trash. He paid a little extra to have it all ripped out and hardwood floors installed instead. The extra money was worth it. So was getting off his ass and painting the place, he adds, glancing through his mail. He couldn’t decide between blue or green for the color so he went for a pastel turquoise.

“Got a balcony,” he says quietly, and walks across the living room. There is one couch and a small coffee table. He stands in front of a screen door. “Five floors up ain’t too high, but it’s still pretty neat, especially when it gets warm.”

Two weeks have passed since the dance. This is Jared’s first night visiting here.

Jensen motions Jared over. “Kinda cold tonight but I wanna show you something.”

Outside, the city is still awake. It’s late—it has to be late. Jensen only just finished a shift and Jared snuck out. He limps over, careful not to knock into anything. He’s plugged up tonight and his ankle never healed properly after the dance. A blow to his stomach from two days ago has him constantly fighting to catch his breath. But he manages well enough and joins Jensen on the balcony.

Mr. Kelly left on leave last week. He gave Jared his tea pot and access to his cubicle. His leave is only temporary, he assured Jared on his last day. At the latest he’ll return by the first of the New Year. His heat is pressing near and he’s found an alpha willing to see him through it without expecting a family. Babies grow up to be children and they require a lot of time and care. Mr. Kelly is an omega who doesn’t want a family of his own. One day he might become a surrogate for another omega but for now, he has come to terms with his situation. An omega doesn’t have to carry. It’s generally thought that the space between an omega’s heats and an alpha’s is for population control; it doesn’t overburden the couple or their environment.

If an omega goes into heat without an alpha partner, they can be knotted without being impregnated. Mr. Kelly handed Jared a small, round plastic case. Inside it are two layers of two different pills. One, the older omega explained, is birth control. The other is a heat suppressant. An omega can take two cycles of suppressant without any negative consequences. Mr. Kelly is at the end of a cycle. He will continue the birth control but since he has extra, he gave Jared a packet to start. No one had explained these possibilities or options to Jared before. Most omegas have no need for a discussion on reproduction and heats until they start having sex. He’s heard his classmates’ gossip about omegas that have sex before their first heats—their words were not kind.

Jared has been having sex before he knew what it was.

It did not take long for him to learn that when dad arrived from work, wrestling would happen.

Wrestling. The thought of it now causes Jared to tense up.

“Jay.”

“Yes, Jensen.”

“Sometimes you look like you’re very far away.”

Looking over at the alpha beside him, Jared nods. “Sometimes I am.”

“Can I pull you back?”

“Yes,” he murmurs. “Please.”

Jensen smiles and reaches into the jacket he’s wearing. From the breast pocket he pulls out two sticks and a lighter. One of the sticks is passed over to Jared, who takes it appreciatively even though he doesn’t know what it is. The older alpha visits Jared at school when he is off-duty, which has so far worked out to three times a week. They sit in Mr. Kelly’s office or on the roof of Jensen’s car. Some days, an hour will pass by without either of them saying much. Others, Jensen will carry the conversation. Yesterday, Jared talked for ten minutes about his latest passage in _The Charioteer_.

“When I light yours, hold it away from you, okay?” The balcony is about the same size as a standard hut.

“Okay.”

A pleasant flicking sound is made by the lighter and Jensen’s thumb. Two seconds later and a flame appears. Jensen holds it out and taps the end of Jared’s stick until the stick starts to crackle. Quickly, Jensen lights his and soothes Jared’s initial fears. These are sparklers, he explains, and they’re harmless. He waves his around to prove a point. Jared stares at his with wide eyes, holding it away from himself just like Jensen instructed. It’s beautiful.

The flames provide a view of Jensen’s broad smile—they create gold flecks in the green of his eyes. Jared isn’t afraid of the dark here.

“I can spell your name,” the alpha says, holding his sparkler a little higher. “J-A-Y.”

For a moment in time, those letters are etched into air. Jared feels himself smile despite the ache in his belly and the fatigue pressing down on his shoulders. Jensen says he has dimples. Those are what the little indents near his mouth are called. They are out now. He squeals in happiness, forgetting himself for a minute when Jensen does a funny dance and waves his sparkler around.

The night ends with Jensen wrapping his left arm around Jared’s waist and pulling him in. They lean against the balcony ledge and watch the sparklers fizzle out.

Someone sighs. Jared can’t tell if it’s him or Jensen.

Either way, it’s a happy one.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the tags!

It tears Jared up to read the last few chapters of _The Charioteer_. He can’t imagine reading another book after it, holding something else in his hands or being guided by another narrator. Mr. Kelly called it book mourning—the feeling a reader gets when a good story is near the end. Jared tries to prolong the experience by limiting his reading to only a few minutes every day, but finds that he can no more refrain from reading than he can decline Jensen’s company.

One overcast, drippy afternoon, Jared curls up on the balcony while Jensen handles a phone call from the DOC inside. He takes out his book and finishes it. Ten pages away from the end, Jensen signals from inside that he’s almost done with his call. When he is put on hold, he steps out with a coat and places it over Jared’s shoulders. The alpha gently murmurs for Jared to come in soon, as it’s getting cold and the weatherman said it would start raining in an hour. Jared nods, lost in his pages.

Laurie and Andrew split up. Oh, it is so much more complicated than that, but that was the end of it. Funny, but Jared doesn’t feel the relief or the happiness that he thought he would when Andrew is finally out of the picture. Instead, he feels… well, he is numb to it. It hadn’t worked out. That was it.

His numbness is broken by a row between Ralph and Laurie shortly after the split. Laurie accuses Ralph of confronting Andrew, saying that by Andrew’s account, he was provoked and forced to strike Ralph in the face. In the end, after a terrible fight where Laurie snapped at the older alpha and drove him away, Laurie is left completely alone. Again, Jared doesn’t feel the way he thought he would at this outcome. What a shame, he sighs and hesitates to turn the page. He could stop now. He doesn’t have to finish this book, especially since Mr. Kelly is on leave. But he remembers that Jensen urged him to stick with it until the end. There has to be something at the end. Still, Jared is frustrated with Laurie. For all of this back and forth—for all the little moments of affection and solace—now the omega has neither alpha.

The color of Jensen’s apartment matches the color of Jared’s eyes. This was pointed out to Jared within five minutes of his arrival at the apartment. Now, he is perched on the balcony, occasionally taking a break from the pages to look out at the city and up at the changing sky.

Pressing on, one of Ralph’s friends pulls Laurie aside and explains that Bunny had disguised himself as Ralph to accost Andrew. It hadn’t been Ralph at all. But even if the omega does realize his mistake—he had still been so cruel to the older alpha. The words he had spat out in anger could never be taken back. Why should the alpha forgive him?

A letter from Ralph is delivered shortly after Laurie discovers what actually happened. The letter’s sincerity—the polite tone to it—causes tears to well up in Jared’s eyes.

All Ralph ever wanted, even when they were boys, was for Laurie to grow into his own person.

Jared pauses, setting the book down, and looks inside the apartment.

Two seconds later, Jensen hangs up the phone. Their eyes meet.

Understanding trickles into him.

 

Later that night, Jensen cooks dinner for Jared.

They eat on the floor of the living room and slurp pasta until their mouths are red with sauce. Jared has never laughed so much in his entire life. Tomorrow night, the alpha declares, is Jared’s turn to cook. Most of the food is already in Jensen’s fridge waiting to be made. Jensen will stop by the butcher tomorrow afternoon and buy a fresh cut of meat. Eagerly, Jared puts together a meal in his head with the ingredients Jensen has on hand. He wants to make Jensen’s favorite meal: steak and mashed potatoes. There is a dry rub recipe from class he would like to try.

After they wash the dishes together, Jensen invites Jared onto the couch.

Jensen sinks into the cushions first. He is wearing comfortable clothes now—a pair of pajama pants and a light gray Henley. A few days have passed since he has shaved. When Jared joins him, pressing them close together, he touches the scruff on Jensen’s face. Jensen smiles lazily and keeps his hands on Jared’s waist. They settle in, calm and easy. With his back to Jensen’s chest, Jared finishes the last five pages of his book. Jensen kisses his cheek when he closes it—finished.

Consolatory words are spoken by the alpha, who securely wraps his arms around the omega. “When you love someone,” Jensen says quietly, “you love them as they are, not as you’d like them to be.”

That’s exactly what Ralph had done all along.

It just took a while for Laurie to understand it.

“Could you want me?” Jared asks in a whisper, turning around so that they are chest to chest.

A gentle hand cards through his hair. Jensen’s voice is a soothing lull. “Well, chances are your chances are awfully good.”

It took a while for Jared to understand it, too.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the tags! next few chapters are rough.

Another week passes by without too many problems. Jared collects seventy-five empties and five pounds of cans and turns them in on a Thursday. As he waits in line he hums to himself, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. He’s hungry but the feeling goes deeper, like a persistent scratching at his rib cage. Last night, sitting on the balcony edge, with Jensen’s hands holding his hips, he mentioned this feeling. Jensen bumped their noses together. He made Jared promise that if the feeling intensified or caused him pain that he would go see Marnee again.

Money received, Jared hurries over to the bakery. He has enough to buy a regular loaf with today’s payout and the little he’s saved up over the past few weeks. Necessity had him buy a small box of soap for laundry two days ago but he knows the soap can be stretched for a while. He washes their clothes in the community bathroom every Monday night. Jensen once told him about a cheap Laundromat on Third and Park, and although the alpha meant well, Jared can’t spend quarters on something he knows he can do himself. There was also an offer to allow Jared use of his in-unit machines, but that too was declined. Jared’s clothes are often dirty and in need of mending; he wouldn’t want to dirty Jensen’s pretty washer and drier with his things. Besides, Jared thinks as he pays for a loaf, he likes making things clean.

On his walk back to the hut, Jared’s mind flits back to the sensation of being up so high. Sitting on the balcony edge was frightening at first. But it felt so good to have Jensen’s hands there, square on the curve of his hips.

Jensen is a good alpha. He wants as many children as his omega will give him. He wants to be the head of his department one day, and when he makes enough money, he wants to buy a house with a big backyard and a fireplace. He has explained to Jared that much like Laurie and Ralph, Jensen knew Mr. Kelly from school when they were younger. Unlike Laurie and Ralph, Mr. Kelly declined Jensen’s romantic interest a year ago. The omega was and still is firm in his decision to not have children; Jensen respects that. They have remained good friends. He still wants that house, though.

What does Jared want?

Halfway to the hut, he stops on the sidewalk. All he is carrying is the loaf, wrapped in a plastic bag, but he is panting and out of breath. If it’s winter, why is he sweating?

It doesn’t get cold enough to snow in Joliet, but it has been chilly in the evenings lately. Still, the breeze that floats through Jensen’s balcony would be welcome. He feels a spike in his body temperature and the scratching turns vehement, creeping into every part of him. His skin starts to buzz, as if it is peeling back, lifting off his bones like rubbery chicken skin. Whining, Jared falls over. Over. Overwhelmed. Over. Rolled over.

 

Crying and trying to regain his balance, Jared realizes that this isn’t hunger.

He is in heat.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the tags! tiny chapter--brace yourselves.

Dad is home early.

Dad is home early.

Dead is home early.

Dad is home early.

Dad is home early.

One letter—one second—makes all the difference.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ THE TAGS. rough chapter.

Last night is what Jared thinks of now.

It’s what keeps him breathing through the decimation that mars half his face.

He looks like his mother.

It’s a problem.

He is in heat. He has the scent of another alpha on him.

Jared coughs.

He closes his eyes and groans as he hears the front door slam.

Left alone.

 

If a stranger were to walk by the hut at this moment and peek inside, they would leave right away.

A preliminary glance reveals blood smeared all over the divider, which is now broken in half, split down the middle. There are indentations in the floorboards and on the thin, flimsy walls. Some of the indentations are in the shape of a boot or a fist. Others are not. It can be guessed as to what those shapes are like. Everything in the hut has been turned over and thrown. Once closed garbage bags are now scattered and sliced, contents spilling out and layering the floor.

Maybe it doesn’t look so bad. Blood can be cleaned and the garbage can be picked up.

The smell, however, is the kind that will remain long after the hut is repaired.

A stench of blood, come, and rotting meat fuses itself to every inch of the dwelling. If the stranger were to turn away and gag, they might see the hand sticking out of a large pile of black garbage bags in the corner of the hut nearest the sole window. The window is open and it looks like it is laughing; not even a breeze can alleviate the putrid odor.

Every finger is broken; the smallest one twitches.

If Jared could say anything, he might say that the stranger should leave and stop staring. Take a picture, it lasts longer. Stop it. Stop looking. Just _go;_ turn away—everyone else does. He screamed and screamed and no one cared. No one stopped it. No one stopped _him_. What did they tell their children? What were the causes of Jared’s shrieks and sobs and howls of agony—pure, unhinged, agony?

But Jared can’t speak. His screams were silenced by a gag that has caused the corners of his mouth to bleed. Shut up. Shut up and stay still.

He hopes Jensen didn’t wait for him.

He hopes Jensen does wait for him.

It was decided that a plug wouldn’t do. Jared going into heat is a celebration. Jared clamps down on the gag as his lower abdomen spasms. It hurts. It hurts, hurts, hurts. And still, his body refuses to stop. Slick is pushing out, combining with the pool of blood coating several garbage bags underneath him. There was no time to take a suppressant. He has no idea where the pills are now, not that they would do him any good. Once a heat has started it can’t be shut down. Even if it could be somehow slowed, it’s not like he can move. He has been chained to a post hammered into the windowsill. The bags and the chain are the only things holding him up.

This isn’t so bad.

Jared mewls into the gag. His eyes roll back.

This isn’t so bad.

What will be bad is what lies ahead.

If he can somehow end it now… in whatever way he has to…

The front door opens.

Jared feels his jaw hang. It’s instinct now. Open up. Shut up. Stay still.

There is no stench and the boots that sound are careful where the step.

It isn’t a stranger looking in, and they don’t leave.

“Jay.” 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the tags!

Kneeling beside Jared, Jensen reaches for his wallet. He pulls out a lock pick.

“Did I tell you,” Jensen cries, “I… I graduated first… in my class, Jay. I… no one… not anyone can pick a lock like I can.”

The chains rattle. Jensen’s hands are shaking.

Jared writhes against the chains and the alpha.

“No, shh… don’t try to speak, Jay. Please. I’m almost done.”

If Jared were any kind of omega he would be able to tell Jensen… his dad stepped out. He didn’t _leave_. He went out for more bottles and Jared has lost track of time. He’ll be back. Jensen needs to go.

 _Click_.

Picked. The lock springs and Jensen eases the chains off of Jared’s wrists and neck.

Oh no.

Oh no.

Jensen left the door open.

Dad is home.

From the doorway a shadow emerges and solidifies into a rancid mass of muscle and bone. Dad has a face. Jared knows he does. And this time he sees it. He sees it in its sunken, yellowed state. He sees the gaping maw that is his father’s mouth. An animal roar is bellowed. The younger alpha is taken down.

Before Jensen touched Jared or began to move bags out of the way, he paged for back up. Hut #719 complex A. They won’t arrive in time to save the younger alpha; Jared can see it from the struggle playing out before him. Years of alcohol have diminished the muscles that carry his father’s body but not the rage. Jared knows this firsthand. For all of Jensen’s training and years on the force, he is still smothered. It’s the smell that throws Jensen’s senses off, affecting his balance, distracting him from reaching his gun. It makes his unaccustomed eyes water and his reflexes dwindle down to a paltry fraction. The body over Jensen is massive in comparison to his leaner form.

Fetid. Decaying. Revolting.

Dad is laughing.

Does Jared want to see his boyfriend’s head come off?

 

_“I should have come, anyway. I should have had to come back.”_


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> read the tags!

One of the newer, amber bottles is gripped.

Jensen beings to seize.

The hut is small.

Jared can reach the front door from his living space.

Thirty seconds later and Jensen would not have been able to pick the locks in time.

Into the tender side of his father’s head, Jared smashes a bottle. Surprise causes his father to reel and the pressure off of Jensen’s throat is released. But it’s not enough. This is a cliff and the one bottle is a singular wave. Another bottle is grasped at—green this time.

He doesn’t stop bashing the bottle until the glass shatters and bone crunches.

 

_Suddenly, he felt free of it all._


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> read the tags!
> 
> you've made it to the end--congratulations! thank you for reading, thank you for your support. <3 
> 
> thank you again to my beta and artist, both of whom are absolutely wonderful. Did you see the art? Here is the link again: tebtosca.livejournal.com/146263.html
> 
> thank you!

An audiobook is a novel that has been recorded onto a disc so that its audience may listen to the novel instead of reading it. The disc is slipped into a player and headphones are plugged in. In place of folding a page or using a bookmark, the pause button can be utilized. A typical novel is about four to six discs, all of them numbered in order. Every audiobook has a different narrator.

Only one copy of _The Charioteer_ on audiobook exists.

Jensen recorded it for him, to listen to in the hospital while he is on duty.

“Lunchtime, Jared,” Nurse Emma announces, carrying in a covered tray. “You didn’t order anything so cook made you a sandwich. C’mon now, eat up. Put away your music.” She sets down the tray on a table with wheels and moves it over the bed. Carefully, she props Jared up, adjusting the bed with a press of a few buttons and fluffing his pillows. “There’s a good boy. I’ll join you for lunch. We can chat.”

Uncovered, the tray reveals a sandwich with thick slices of roast beef, a few slices of cheese, and fresh, crispy lettuce. His left arm is broken and in a cast, but his right arm only sustained a sprain to the wrist. Nurse Emma helps him grip half of the sandwich, reminding him gently that he has to finish the entire tray today. The first time they brought him food was alarming. Was he expected to pay for it up front? If they could find his things, they might be able to retrieve a few coins. By the third meal they brought him, he begged them to stop bringing him trays of food he could not afford.

Nurse Emma had been the one to explain to him quietly that patients in a hospital were not charged for their meals. Still, for someone to bring him food three times a day and not expect anything in return remains overwhelming. His audiobook is on pause as he munches on his sandwich. There are carrots to the side, plus a small tin of chocolate pudding. Nurse Emma opens a cup of juice for him.

“Detective Ackles will be stopping by later,” is mentioned as she adjusts the oxygen line near Jared’s nose. “You’ll want to look your best, I know, so we’ll do your bath early tonight.”

Jared nods and watches her do the usual afternoon check-up. Feeling has not returned to his left leg. There is a fifty/fifty chance that it won’t, but it is marred by burn marks from his ankle up to his hips. He doesn’t feel it when she peels back the bandages.

“Healing well,” she murmurs with a smile. “Did you talk with the doctor today?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” Nurse Emma is young, with fair hair and brown eyes. She wears a pale pink lipstick for every shift. Jensen reported to Jared that his nurse was not as nice as Nurse Emma. He was only in the hospital for two days, but somehow, he managed to piss off his nurse.

A full week has gone by since Jared first woke up in a strange room with white walls and machines all around him. Luckily, Jensen was there, already discharged from his stay. The medical team that saw to Jared when he was brought in had decided to place him in a medically induced coma for forty-eight hours. Nurse Emma explained to him later that it meant his body was given a chance to rest—his brain was swelling and it needed Jared to sleep. Funny enough, after all that sleep, he still woke up with a headache.

Clucking, Nurse Emma reminds Jared that the _entire_ sandwich is his and he doesn’t need to save the other half for later. “I’m going to give you some strong pain medicine in a moment and the more you eat the less of a hangover you’ll get later.” When Jared hesitates, she also reminds him that he needs to choose what he wants for dinner—chicken and mashed potatoes or salmon and rice. Knowing that there will be a third meal later, Jared starts on the second half of his sandwich and decides not to hide his carrots under his pillow like he did a few days ago.

The doctor that visited—a very nice older man—explained to Jared that his left leg has suffered extensive nerve damage. How or if it heals will depend on the quality and consistency of care that Jared receives after his discharge. If he’s a good patient, he might leave in a week, or, at most two weeks. His left arm will be in a cast for at least another eight weeks, and his right hand and wrist will require a special glove to keep him from further harm. His tone of voice dimmed when he began to speak about his other injuries. Between his legs there was bleeding, tears, and internal damage. Fortunately, come had not been discovered when specialists attended to him. Even with this good fortune, the doctor asked Jared to repeat his words: no penetrative sex for six months.

All of this news was passed onto the alpha in charge of Jared’s care and his official guardian.

“We’re going to start physical therapy tomorrow,” is gently told to Jared as he’s finishing his pudding. “I want you up by eight. Don’t stay up all night listening to your music. You need to rest. Your visitor knows that and I still have to shoo him out of here past visiting hours.”

“Can’t he stay?” This is the one piece Jared has to speak up for. He is in a private room due to the nature of his injuries and his age, but the sounds from the rest of the hospital are new and a little frightening. He worries without meaning to, about the codes that are called over the intercom. A few of the nurses have told him what the codes mean but he can’t keep track of all of them.

His room is small; at least that’s what the nurses have told him in apology. Three huts could fit in here. The walls are a cheerful, light blue and he has windows that overlook a courtyard, where he can watch a small family of ducks walk through on their way to the fountain in the center. Each time he finishes an entire tray of food, the nurses have been given instructions to move his bed over to the windows. Nurse Emma doesn’t forget. She does, however, remind Jared that his visitor works overnight shifts. “Soon enough,” she murmurs, rearranging a few things in the room so there is a clear pathway, “you’ll be able to do whatever you want. For now, you need to rest, eat, and attend physical therapy. Those are your jobs and I expect you to take them seriously.”

Hands on her hips, her tone lightens. “Let’s get bath time out of the way and you can spend the rest of the afternoon near the window.”

Staying in bed for an extended period of time is one of the largest challenges. Jared doesn’t know how Laurie put up with it because he certainly can’t. One of the nurses caught him a few days ago trying to get up to walk around the room. Apparently, that kind of thing is frowned upon. Nurse Emma helps him, her shoulders under his arms, and together they manage to move Jared so that he’s sitting on the edge of the bed. His left leg rolls along with him. It’s strange to see it loll around and not have any control in its movements. The doctor explained that the condition is somewhat like having an arm fall asleep, except more nerves are involved and they aren’t waking up.

Several components are hooked up to Jared at all times. One is the IV stand, which he is always mindful of because it seems like it would be painful for that to rip out. Another is a blood pressure cuff, which he hated at first but has grown used to. Yet another is an oxygen tank and the line that threads over his ears and around to rest below his nose. Nurse Emma takes care of all these things as Jared sits up. She unties his gown, which is thankfully a cloth one. The paper ones he wore early on in his stay make too much noise and tore easily. A fresh gown waits on the end of the bed.

“Chin up,” she murmurs, tapping his chin with a sponge. “Thank you.”

Undressed, every injury is bared before her. She doesn’t flinch. At the start, Jared is tense and quiet. As his bath progresses, he eases into her touch and replies to her questions. How was breakfast? Very good. How was the first shift? Very nice. What did he choose for dinner? Salmon and rice.

Bruises, wounds, and burn marks cover him in an array of colors. A few of the deeper ones appear to have started healing. There is one that has festered—a jagged line from left shoulder blade to above his right kidney—but Nurse Emma announces that it is taking a turn for the better. “The last thing you need is an infection,” she says and begins to pat him down with a clean towel. “Now, now. Don’t fall asleep on me before you take your pills. Just a little while longer.”

Lain back down, Jared looks out at the sky. A few pills are handed to him to take while Nurse Emma finishes tying on the fresh gown and taking his vitals. She passes over the extra carton of juice from the tray that he hadn’t touched before. This one is fruit punch.

Within a minute, the pills and dinner take their effect on him.

Every night, Nurse Emma instructs him not to fight the pills—he needs to let them work.

This is no patch of grass. But the sky looks the same.

Focus, he thinks, giving into the floating sensation in his body. Focus on the sky.

 

Later on, when he wakes up to the sound of his door opening, he doesn’t remember the rest of his bath or taking his pills. His body is blessedly numb. A sense of peace runs through him like the oxygen in the line. With a hiccup, he turns towards the door, expecting Nurse Emma.

“Promise me you’ll leave on time today, Jensen.”

“Are you the boss of me now, Em?”

“When you’re in my ward, yes, yes I am. The boy needs to rest.”

“I’d like to see you try and kick me out.”

“Jensen!”

“Okay, okay. On time. I promise. Wanna pinky swear it?”

“I don’t want to touch you.”

“Can I bribe you and get half an hour more tonight?”

“ _Go_.”

Jensen’s voice changes two footsteps later, when he’s at Jared’s bedside. His eyes widen when he realizes that Jared has been awake the entire time. “Hey,” he breathes, his smile widening. He shoves his hands into the pockets of pants. “I was hoping you’d be up.”

Not two minutes into his visit and Jared is already asking, “Can’t you stay tonight?”

A frown pulls at the once happy expression on the alpha’s face. His body language changes. Jared can’t read it. “I… Jay, I don’t think the warden here would like that too much. You’ve got to rest so you can get out of here.” He sees the obvious expression of disappointment that Jared gives and shifts his weight. “I mean, you do want to get out of here soon, right? The food can’t be all that great.”

“I had a roast beef sandwich today.”

“See, that’s good,” Jensen replies, sitting down in the chair that he has occupied every time he’s visited. “But I can make you country fried steak. Or orange chicken. Or hash brown potatoes with little onions mixed in, piled high with cheese on top.” From his back pocket, he takes out a few sheets of paper. He looks at them for a moment. “Jay, I’m not assigned to your case anymore, as of a week ago.”

Jared hiccups. His head feels light. Some of the medicine is wearing off. “Is that bad?”

Eyes widening, Jensen rushes to say, “No, no, definitely not. Uh… if anything, it’s better. My director. He knows a lot of folks. You know, politics.”

Once again, Jared does not know, but he nods anyway.

The papers in Jensen’s hands are unfolded. He stands up and swings the table near Jared like Nurse Emma did earlier. Jared scoots himself up; Jensen helps, pushing a few buttons and extending his arm out so Jared can hold onto it for leverage. Once he’s up, Jensen’s hands flutter, smoothing out the papers.

Taking in a deep breath, Jensen rubs the back of his neck. “These are the official papers, Jay, like I promised. If you sign them, you’ll legally be under my care until you’re eighteen. No one could take you away from me. That’s what my director’s signature and the judge’s signature mean.” The alpha clears his throat. “You… I…. ugh, I’m so bad at this.”

“You are,” Jared dares to say. He braces himself for a snap.

“I really am,” Jensen laughs. “Look, Jay, I’m gonna give it to you straight, okay? I don’t wanna be just your guardian by law. My feelings don’t stop there. I want more.” These words are spoken as clear as bottles. “I want you to live with me now and for a really long time after that. I work shit hours. I’m not rolling in dough. But… honey, I’ll do right by you, I promise. I’ll put a roof over your head and food on the table and you will never, ever end up here eating roast beef sandwiches again.”

Jared looks at the papers in front of him. The language is simple.

Nervous, Jensen adds, “I want what you want, Jay. Honest.”

What does he want?

Nurse Emma has explained to him that he will be in a great deal of pain for a while after this. She has said that he will need to have patience with his body as it heals, and he can expect to spend a lot of his time inside after he is discharged. Although the hospital staff keeps him from being too uncomfortable, there is only a certain amount of pills he can take in a twenty-four hour period. Between doses, Jared listens to his audiobook. Jensen does a British accent perfectly; he even changes voices for the characters.

He wants to listen to Jensen read from the book in person. He wants to listen to Jensen read dozens more books to him, there on the couch or on the balcony. He wants more sparklers and he wants to try to spell out _Jen_. He wants as much of these things as he can get—for himself. Yes. He wants things for himself.

Picking up the pen Jensen has set down, Jared taps it on the table. He hesitates.

“Can I give you something?” he asks, their eyes meeting once more.

“You don’t have to give me anything, Jay.”

“I want to.”

“Okay.”

“Sit?”

“Yep.” Jensen takes his seat again. The bruises on his neck have faded. Jared shifts in his bed, minding the lines attached to him, and extends his left hand to slip into Jensen’s. The alpha’s fingers are careful with the IV, rubbing circles on Jared’s palm.

Focus.

Focus on green eyes.

He might not ever regain feeling in his leg. He might always be like Laurie in that aspect. But he will definitely—always—choose his Ralph.

His voice is not loud, nor is it very strong. He must take pause every few words for breath. But Jensen listens, hanging onto it all.

“ _They are far, both of them, from home, and lonely, and lengthened by their strife the way has been hard. Now their heads droop side by side till their long manes mingle; and when the voice of the charioteer falls silent they are reconciled for a night in sleep_.”

Jensen stays with Jared that night.

And for many nights after.

 


End file.
